At All Costs
by kp4377
Summary: Emily's life is turned upside down when an unexpected encounter with an old friend turns deadly. No matter what dangers are involved she will risk everything to reveal the truth.
1. Chapter 1

_So here it is, a new story that I hope you enjoy! This story is pre-Doyle but no real specific season in mind._

_Oh my one and only disclaimer: Sadly I do not or ever will own Criminal Minds, the character or show. _

_Happy Reading!_

* * *

_"To know what is right and not do it is the worst cowardice."~ Confucius_

Emily felt cold... so cold she was shivering. A teeth chattering cold that was accompanied by intense pain hammering through her head. She strained to open her eyes and when one successfully blinked apart only darkness greeted her. Her body trembled more as the panic and fear of the immediate unknown coursed through her. Taking in a calming breath she finally was able to lift her heavy head. The first thing she realized was that she was laying flat on her stomach on a hard unfamiliar ground, and the source of the cold. She felt wetness surrounding her, but couldn't figure out why. Had it rained? How did she get there, and where was there? She closed her eyes again to try and allow for some of the dust to settle, but found it nearly impossible to concentrate with her head throbbing with each pulse of her heart. She tried to open her eyes again, but only her left would oblige. The right side of her face felt like the skin was thick and overstretched. The bone near her eye didn't feel right and she couldn't see out of it.

She then tried to at least raise up to her knees and slowly propped herself onto her elbows. The movement only caused the pain to increase at an excruciating rate. She felt nauseous and weak, and had to pause to not allow herself to slip under again. She tried to understand what had happened or what was happening, but her mind was too clouded.

She blinked again. A pale light in the far distance was what gave any of her surroundings a voice, but it still remained frighteningly unfamiliar. A sudden vibration in her back pocket caught her attention. Carefully holding her weight on one arm she reached behind and painstakingly worked the object out. With bloody fingertips she grasped it and held it in front of her. Seeing the red coating over her hands she remembered the wet ground. Blood. She was laying in it, pooled all around her, thick and rancid. She tried to move away again but her body refused. Was it hers? Her body felt numb, but her head pounded. Was this what dying felt like, the body goes cold and the mind lingers on the cusp of darkness?

She dropped her head. The same questions repeated in her mind. Where was she? How did she get there? The face lit up on the phone in her hand and the sudden bright light hurt. She squinted to try and focus but she could only stare; confused at what to do. The number and name looked foreign and before she could put anything together the screen grew dark. She pressed at it causing it to illuminate once again. She ran her finger over the screen and felt slight relief when she heard a voice on the other end.

"H-help." Was all she could force out. She could hear the man's tone change, getting louder and exuding extreme concern. The exertion of the simple task was too much to respond and slowly she lowered her head onto her arm. As her muscles relaxed the phone fell away dipping into the puddled crimson.

* * *

Derek closed the fridge and leaned his weight against the counter. In a quick movement he cracked the top off of the beer bottle and tossed the round metal across the smooth granite. He set the opener down as he watched the cap bounce around until it settled in the sink. He then moved slowly around the bar and headed back to his living room listening intently to the announcers excitedly give the play by play of the baseball game playing on his large flat screen.

He passed through the doorway and seeing the darkness of the growing night swallow the room he flipped on the switch. His surroundings immediately lit up and he paused to take a deep drink of the frosty beverage in his hand. After swallowing he glanced at the long neck satisfied with the smooth finish.

_It was going to be a good night_, he thought.

Feeling content at having no responsibilities for the evening he plopped down on the soft cushions of his couch. He leaned forward and set the beer down before flipping the lid of the cardboard box and contemplated his third piece of thin crust pizza. With the simple decision made he reached out and grabbed a slice. He was trying to recover the overloaded toppings spilling off when his phone chirped in his pocket. He sighed at the interruption, but knew better than to ignore it. With slight irritation he set the pizza back down, wiped the grease from his hands and dug into his cargo shorts for his cell.

Derek glanced at the name and picture then smiled to himself as he placed the phone to his ear.

"Well hello Princess," he sang and retrieved the beer before throwing his feet up onto the table. "I know you can't get enough of me and all, but it hasn't even been four hours since we left the BAU."

He took another sip while he waited for her smartass comeback, but there wasn't one.

"Prentiss?"

Nothing. He looked at the phone.

_Must have butt dialed me, _he mused.

He was about to end the call when he heard the strained and distressed voice.

"H-help."

"Emily?" His heart began to race.

"What's wrong?"

Silence.

"Talk to me!" He pleaded and shot up. The beer released from his grip in a careless attempt to set it down. It tipped over and rolled to the edge of the square mahogany table. Its contents flowed freely across the wood and onto the carpet below. The spill went unnoticed.

"Emily!" He was yelling now, but had little effect on the unnerving silence he was receiving from the other end of the phone.

* * *

_I know it was short but kinda had to be. The next chapters will not be I can promise you that! _

_Thank you for reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts!_

_And would you look at that, the review box is set up ready for you to type in!_


	2. Chapter 2

_WOW! I am humbled and honored at the response for the first chapter! Thank you so much! I won't bore you with my rambles so please enjoy!_

_Happy reading!_

* * *

_T__he tinted four-door sedan smoothly cruised along the dark street. The windows fogged slightly from the body heat emanating from the three passengers sitting in a tight tension. The driver clutched the wheel, his knuckles showing white. His face was scrunched in a fierce scowl as he concentrated on the task of driving. The front passenger kept her eyes moving from the passing buildings and streets back to the driver. Her fingers fidgeted nervously with the seam of her skirt._

"_So where are we headed tonight boys?" The blonde asked in as calm a manner as she could muster._

_The thickheaded driver only grunted and glanced in the review mirror to the equally bulky dark haired man in the back seat. He sat slouched back and with no safety belt to restrain him and had one leg stretched across the entire seat. He stared blankly in front of him and twirled a zippo lighter in his hand. Every few seconds his finger would catch the edge and he'd flip the lid open. The metallic ping of the action sent a cold rush of fear down her spine. To control her building panic she adjusted her position and looked back to the men._

"_Not so talkative tonight, I get it." She said faking a smile. God she had gotten good at those._

_She felt her palms become increasingly sweaty and her heart raced a little more. She sat straight-backed, as if a rod was keeping her up. The sweat that ran down her neck and back felt like ants crawling over her skin making the hairs stand on end. She fought not to fidget too much and give herself away, and really show how scared she was. She was more scared than she had ever been in her life. More scared than when she first stepped foot into the restaurant to penetrate the organization. She figured they would sniff her out instantly, but she stood tall and reminded herself to be a commanding presence. To never let them see her sweat. She actually shocked herself at how convincing she was. _

_Megan Sabosque a no nonsense "entrepreneur" and expert jewelry thief looking to expand her profit margin. She set her eyes on Vincent Carbone the "man" in the DC extension. Her part was small but significant to making their way to the head of the family in New York and taking him down. She played her almost insignificant part well and easily melded into the folds. She got information they needed in a short time, if you could call three years a short time._

_Three years of being a person she hated at times. One she despised even, but was reminded that there was a light at the end of the tunnel. She was about to reach it and be able to get out, but feet from her freedom she was discovered as a fraud, and more importantly a threat. A threat that no one in the organization took lightly. There would be no fanfare; no one was going to call her out in front of anyone. Not like in the movies, pulling the wire from their chest in a dramatic show. Stalling enough that backup arrived and then she'd be saved in the nick of time. No, that's not how it worked. It was done quietly. You just disappeared. You went for a drive and never returned._

_This was her drive. "The ride" as it was referred. Now the last one she would ever have. She wracked her mind to how they could have found out. Had someone followed her when she had reported in? But she had been so careful. It really didn't matter anymore, they knew._

_Now she sat with two sweating foul smelling messenger boys. Was this a test for them to climb the ranks a little more? Her death was a promotion for them. She shuddered at the thought. Her life meant nothing, but she silently hoped it did to someone. No, the real her was a ghost now, and the people who knew her as Megan could care less. Even to her previous co-workers and the last member of her family, her brother Eric, all believed her to have moved on. It had to be that way, and she knew it when she was approached and accepted to be an undercover agent. __It helped that she had a strained relationship with Eric, no family to be concerned with made the decision that much easier. _Everyone probably had forgotten about her and those who were concerned probably had stopped their search. Would they be able to rebuild what was lost if she had ever climbed out of the dark hole? She tried to shake the negative thoughts and would continue to play dumb until the end looking for a way out.

_She saw her opportunities fleeting as the car turned down the street that led to the highway. She knew once they were on the highway she had no chance. They were headed for the perfect dumpsite. They knew exactly where they were going. This was routine._

_She couldn't let it all end this way. She worked too hard to make the world a better place. For her to be shot and left, to never to be seen again, just wasn't fair. She felt the panic well up to an overwhelming point and she knew she had to act. In one swift movement she had her belt off and the door open._

_She threw herself out of the swiftly moving vehicle. She flew to the ground hitting hard, bouncing off the road. Pain crashed through each time her body smacked onto the asphalt, but the adrenaline took over. She wished she hadn't gone with the short skirt and heels, but at that point it was just detail. She could run in heels, it was the damage from the skidding and pounding on the pavement that would slow her down. Once in control of the roll she sprang to her feet and took off running as fast as her injured legs would allow. She had no real direction; she just needed to get far away from the car. She heard the tires screech. They were turning around. _

"_Run! Run!" She repeated to herself as if it would make her move faster. _

_Around a corner she tore off her heels and discarded them. Pressed tight against the wall she proceeded along the darkening shadows of the buildings. She searched for anything or anyone. The street was empty of life. The lights of the stores were off and their security gates were down locking them up tight. She felt more panicked knowing she was trapped. She really had nowhere to hide; she had no weapon on her. She was told the plans for the night was dinner and dancing with the Big Man. She dressed appropriately for the date, and planned out her strategy to get him to talk. When she saw the drivers she knew there was no way she was going to make it to the restaurant. _

_A movement caught her eye, and that was when she saw her. She couldn't believe her luck. No, it had to be fate. She hadn't seen her in years. It didn't matter, whatever it was she had to act. Without hesitating she moved as fast as she could across the street, a beeline to the woman exiting the Chinese restaurant. With all her force she plowed into her almost taking her to the ground. The impact caused the woman to release the bag she was holding. It collided violently with the brick wall causing noodles and Kung Poa chicken to litter the concrete. The woman regained her balance and took a quick defensive stance. Of course she'd be prepared. Prepared for a fight and to take the attack head on, she knew this about her._

_Their eyes met and she saw the fury build, but quickly fleeted when the recognition hit._

"_Sheila?"_

"_Emily." She breathed out and instinctively looked behind her. It must have been fate. She would be safe. _

* * *

Derek gave up trying to reach Emily. He felt he had to act but had no clue where she could be. He thought back to their conversation before they left the BAU. They all had been exhausted and ready for a night of solitude, but she never said exactly what she was going to do. He called her home number and just got the machine. After her short message and beep he called out for her but there was no response.

Frantic to make progress he grabbed his keys and bolted out the door and decided he needed to call the one person that could retrieve any needed information the quickest.

Derek grew impatient for Garcia to answer. When it went to voicemail he hung up and didn't hesitate to redial. He continued the cycle until she answered.

When her voice finally came through her words were sharp with jagged irritation. "Derek Morgan, I love you but I'm trying to have a nice dinner with Kev-"

Before she could get out Kevin's name Derek was cutting her off, "Emily's in trouble and I need your help."

He heard her gasp, then came frantic shuffling and silverware clattering on the other end. "Oh my God! What happened? Where are you? What do you need?"

"I don't know where she is. I'm headed to her place but she called from her cell phone. I need to track it."

"Oh I can't from here, and I'm-" She stopped. "No, let me call Naomi, she's at the office."

"Hurry!"

Derek threw his phone to the passenger seat and tried to concentrate on driving. He couldn't drive fast enough, red lights became nuisances, and other drivers were just slow moving obstacles. He found himself constantly cursing and hitting the steering wheel in frustration and impatience to get to his destination. He felt the time weighing heavily on him; he didn't now how much he had if any at all.

Finally pulling up to Emily's apartment complex Morgan threw the car to park. He grabbed his cell before he sprang from the driver's seat slamming the door shut. He felt disconnected from his mind. His legs felt heavy, it was like time slowed down and everything fell out of focus. He knew the focus would not be regained until Emily was in front of him and the questions running circles in his mind were answered. Once making it to her door he pounded on it and and called out, but silence was the only response he received. Seconds before he was about to kick through the wood barrier his phone alerted him of Garcia's call.

"Tell me something good." He answered before she could speak.

"I don't know if it's good, but I have a location."

"Give it to me."

"Naomi sent it to your phone. And Derek-"

"What?"

"First responders have already arrived."

"Who called it in?" Derek asked, the anxiety building even more. He rubbed his hand over his cleanly shaven head and paced impatiently in the narrow hallway.

"A cook from a restaurant." Her voice began to shake, "he said there were dead bodies in the alley."

Derek swallowed, and his mind went blank. He wanted to grill Garcia for details but knew she didn't have them and she was relying on him to get the pertinent ones.

"What do I do?" She asked the stress clearly consuming her voice. "I feel so helpless right now!"

"So do I." He said with obvious distance.

"I'll call Hotch!"

"Yeah," he said under his breath almost as an after thought. He hung up and scrambled out to his car preparing for another round of fighting the persistent obstacles that were keeping him from Emily. The address wasn't far but the drive felt like an eternity. The thought of dead bodies and Emily's call made his stress heightened even more. There were too many possibilities and none of them good.

Derek pulled up to the scene of flashing lights and milling officers and crime scene techs. All the activity in front of him was a typical one with his job but when his friend was in the epicenter he was filled with a different feeling. He angled his car behind the flashing lights of a local PD Dodge Charger. He immediately jumped out and looked around to take in the entire situation. The whole area was roped off with crime scene tape. A third news van rumbled up and the reporter jumped out to join the others already set up at the end of the roadblock. Onlookers huddled in gossiping groups behind the yellow tape.

Derek refocused and looked to where the majority of the officers stood. He was drawn in the direction of the bright floodlights that shown into the alley. He began to run when a large uniformed officer abruptly blocked him.

"Sir, you're going to have to get behind the tape. This is a closed crime scene."

Derek felt the anger begin to boil over. He yanked his credentials out and held in front of the young man's face.

The officer held his hands on his duty belt and leaned back slightly as he looked curiously at it then to Derek. "FBI? Now, what are you doing here?"

Derek looked past him impatient to get to the scene and see what was going on. He spoke with obvious frustration. "My partner called me for help."

"And who's that?" He asked taking a glance again to the bodies moving around busily behind him then to the book he held in his grip. The one he used to log all the personnel that crossed the yellow tape.

"Agent Emily Prentiss."

"Hmmm," he said squinting at the names written down in front of him. He then straightened up to meet Derek level in the eyes. "Nope, no Agent Prentiss."

Morgan shook his head and held back his urge to pelt the smaller man. "I need to talk to who is in charge."

The officer's face contorted again but pointed to a heavyset man leaning against the brick wall of the restaurant. "Detective Long."

Morgan nodded to the officer and pushed past him to approach the large man jotting notes into a small spiral notebook. The Detective looked like he had eaten more doughnuts than ran miles. His bulging belly extended over his pants, almost bursting the buttons of his stripped tieless shirt. His face was worn with exhaustion and was constantly wiping sweat from his brow and neck with a handkerchief.

He caught sight of Derek and gave him a quick run over before he returned his attention to his pad.

"And who are you?" He asked as the dark agent drew up close.

Derek immediately placed his credentials over the notebook that filled the man's pudgy hands.

It only served to stop him from writing. He dropped his arms and looked to Derek with an unimpressed glare. "I don't care if you are the Director you need to get off my crime scene."

Derek widened his stance ready for battle and stood his ground. "I received a distress call from my partner, SSA Emily Prentiss. This is the location from where the call was originated. You're going to tell me what's going on and where she is."

The man swallowed then wiped more sweat from the base of his neck. "Well, this just gets more interesting."

"How's that?" Derek asked trying to understand the man's vague response.

"You just might be of assistance." Detective Long said as he pushed off the wall and turned to move to the alley. "You may be able to ID the bodies."

The situation was in no way getting any better. Derek slowly exhaled to cover his failing control.

"What happened?" Derek asked warily as he walked with him.

"We're not sure yet. We have one possible witness." He said pointing to a smaller Asian man speaking to a uniformed officer. He then moved his hand to draw attention to a camera above them. "And we're waiting for the surveillance tape from the restaurant."

Derek followed his movements but held his questions. None of them mattered until he had confirmed for himself whether Emily was okay or not.

"Three victims, two dead and one on the way to the hospital. No Id's on any of them."

His statement confused Derek. He finally asked the question that plagued him since he had arrived. "What do you mean no there were no ID's? Em-Agent Prentiss should have her credentials on her, if not that at least a driver's license. What about her phone?"

"Those are interesting questions, and we can add them to the growing list I have of this situation. If she had any of those they're gone now." He said with a shrug. "The only name we got was Sheila. That was the only question she answered before the EMT's whisked her off. She was pretty beat up and in shock." He stopped and once again swiped his handkerchief over his face. "I would be too if I woke up next to two dead bodies."

Derek felt his heart clench tighter. The words from the detective were not ones he wanted to hear. He tried to rationalize that it was not happening, but as they walked closer to the opening of the alley he felt like reality slapped him hard. Would the last thing he'd ever remember about his friend was her strained and pain filled cry for help? He drew in a breath to calm himself, but it did little good.

The hastily set up flood lights lit up the once dark space. He couldn't breath as his eyes adjusted to the two bodies covered in white sheets. He looked at the evidence placard and blood stained asphalt that surrounded them. The tech crew busily worked the scene, but were blurs of distractions that seemed not to care that the person under the cotton sheet could be Emily Prentiss. He swallowed again trying to push his stomach back to where it belonged.

Detective Long pointed to the covered bodies. "Had to cover them. Too many onlookers right now," he said nodding to the reporters.

"Anyway," he sighed and turned his head back, "female, white mid 30's early 40's. Single gun shot to the head." He then casually pointed to the other larger body. "Caucasian male late 20's early 30's three GSW's to the chest."

Derek tried not to look at the sheet and accept it to be Emily. He didn't have proof yet. He wanted to deny his mind screaming that it was and how not to react with all the people watching. He wasn't even sure if he was prepared for them to lift it. He stalled the best he could, but knew the time would come to face it, to face her.

"And the other victim? Sheila?" He choked out.

"We're still trying to piece it all together. The gun was a few feet from her when the first responders arrived. There was no evidence of GSR on her and strange thing is the gun appeared to have been wiped clean, not a single print on it."

He gestured to the tech to remove the sheet.

Derek held his breath as the woman beneath was revealed.

* * *

_Emily eyed the smaller woman in front of her. Noting every detail. She was a mess; abrasions and cuts on her face and bare shoulders. Blood smeared across her pale skin and the discoloration of bruises already forming. Her short skirt was torn and tattered, and her legs held the same road rash as her arms. From the severity of the ones on her right side it appeared that was what took the initial impact of the graveled road. Emily glanced at her bare feet, no shoes. Had she been hit by a car, and lost her shoes from the collision?_

"_Sheila?" She asked again to regain her attention._

"_So good to see you Tess. How long has it been?" The woman choked out trying to pretend the situation wasn't out of her control. She was obviously scared for her life. She kept her head turning and looking down the road. To what, Emily had not figured out yet._

"_What happened?" She asked again pulling her phone from her purse._

_Sheila placed a strong hand on her wrist stopping her. "No, your car!" She stuttered, "Frank."_

"_Frank?"_

"_Yes," she insisted and tugged at Emily to begin moving. Her eyes still wide looking around them for the danger she had encountered and still felt surrounding them. With only a few steps Sheila started to collapse. Emily quickly wrapped her arms around her and pulled her back up. _

_Emily couldn't continue without doing something. "I'm calling this in." She decided. "Tell me what happened?"_

"_No!" Sheila begged, "We need to get to the car!"_

_Emily felt her defenses rise and thought about her gun, and her phone. _

_She'd have to release Sheila to get to both, but to save their lives she just may have to. Would she have time? They were easy targets on the sidewalk. She began to understand her friend's urgency to get to the car._

"_Okay," Emily tried to console and picked up their pace when she heard the rattle of a car behind them. Emily thought about her gun again._

_The possible safety of her car was only feet away. She reached out for the door handle and only paused long enough to catch a glimpse of a suspicious Sedan as it crept by, but nothing happened. Her relief was short lived when an impact from behind pressed them into the metal frame. They fell in a heap of twisted appendages. Emily struggled to free herself and jumped up when she felt the weight release from her._

_She heard Sheila scream. She looked up and saw the two forms begin to disappear into the blackness of the alley._

_She found her purse and retrieved her weapon and phone. After she tucked her cell into her back pocket she moved swiftly and announced herself as she approached the dark shadows. She had no protection besides her own gun and kept her body turned slightly to the side to make herself less of a target. _

_The distant light from the lone bulb above the back door of the Chinese restaurant gave a vague view of the situation. The assaulting man was back stepping with Sheila tightly confined in his grasp. She couldn't tell if he had a weapon, but would not bet against it. She announced herself again ordering the man to stop and let her go. _

_He just laughed. Emily broke the line between the alley and sidewalk and stopped moving. She adjusted her stance preparing for the unknown battle. Of course she had been in situations like this more times than she'd like to remember, but expected it on the job, and at least had some form of backup. She really didn't want to shoot anyone tonight. She had just spent four days wound up tight, and this was about to make her crack. All she had wanted was takeout and a nice glass of wine._

_Sheila yelled out again. Just when Emily realized the warning her head snapped to the side as it absorbed the blow from a solid object hitting it. She staggered, eyes filled with instant tears. She was half blinded, knees buckling. She couldn't go down, she was dead if she did. The world tipped to the side. She saw Sheila, who was frantically struggling with the man holding her. A shadow rose above Emily then bent down for something. A heavy foot hit her side. She was down. She couldn't go down, they'd be dead. Where was the gun?_

_He towered next to her. There was a deafening blast and she saw the final second of life leave her friend._

_An echo of more blasts rang in her ears before it went cold and dark._

* * *

_Thank you for reading! I hope the hook is still attached!_

_Don't forget to let me know your thoughts!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you for the continued support! It really means a lot to me! _

_Happy Reading_!

* * *

Derek couldn't look away from the thin sheet as the Crime Scene Tech grabbed a corner between his gloved fingers and pulled it back enough to expose the woman's face. Derek felt his breath seep through his tightly sealed lips as he stared briefly into the vacant eyes of the person he had never seen before. Relief floated through him, but it was brief. Besides the weight lifting that the dead woman was not Emily he still didn't have accurate information on her. He glanced back to the curious face of the detective, and slowly shook his head.

"That's not Agent Prentiss."

Detective Long's round face scrunched in disappointment. "Do you know either of them?"

"No." He said abruptly and turned away jerking his phone off his belt and autodialed Aaron.

"Hey!" The detective yell after him. "Where're you going?"

Derek ignored him and kept moving. It was simple for him at that moment. Emily wasn't there so he felt no reason to stay. He was overwhelmed with the need to get to her, more than worried to why she had identified herself as a person named Sheila. He searched for any connection to anyone he knew or if Emily had ever mentioned anyone by that name, but nothing came to mind. His pace picked up after he maneuvered around the obstacles of cars and people.

_Pick up Aaron! _His mind screamed_. _After what felt like one too many rings a voice came through.

"Hotch!" Derek half yelled, but recovered quickly sucking in a breath.

Aaron's usually strong voice wavered with concern, "what do you have?"

Derek gave him all the information he had received from the Detective and what he observed at the scene. When he finished relaying what he felt was pertinent he informed the Unit Chief of his plan. "I'm leaving and going to the hospital."

"Morgan, I need someone there."

"I'm going to the hospital." He repeated more directly.

"Okay, I'll sent Reid and Rossi there. Jayje and I will meet you at the hospital."

Derek wordlessly responded and ended the call. His complete focus turned back to getting to Emily.

* * *

Emily still felt disoriented and confused. The lights that flashed around her continued to hurt her head, and the loud voices hurt her ears. She heard the questions being asked but all she could think of was Sheila. The EMT snapped her back to the present when his fingers gently probed her swollen cheek.

"Sorry," he apologized and handed Emily the ice bag to put back on the injured area.

Emily obliged and winced at the cold. She tasted the blood that had filled her sinuses and dripped down the back of her throat. Her stomach flipped and she couldn't control the upheaval. The middle-aged EMT jumped back just in time as she expelled the minimal contents of her stomach.

When she had recovered he leaned back in her line of sight and more questions came. "Can you tell me your name?"

"Sheila." No that was wrong but she couldn't remember. What was her name?

"Do you know today's date?"

Emily didn't answer. There were no numbers coming to her head. She felt panicked and all she could see was Sheila's lifeless body in front of her.

"Sheila?"

Emily shook her head, "no."

She was trying to tell him that wasn't her name but everything felt scrambled. She just wanted to close her eyes and drift away. Pretend none of this was happening. The worse was that she had no recollection of what really happened.

"It's okay," The Medic encouraged. He placed one hand gently on hers as he pushed them away from the bloody scene. Emily hardly noticed they had moved until the knees of the gurney buckled and slid smoothly into the back of the ambulance. The doors slammed shut and everything suddenly felt final. A need to see Sheila again washed over her and she tried to push up to get out.

Seeing her unease the Medic lightly pressed on Emily's shoulder. "Just lay back."

She only tensed more. He continued to speak softly as he began to set up to administer intervenes fluids. All she heard was his voice, his words and their meanings meant nothing to her. There was no relaxing. How could she relax when she didn't know how her friend died? Or who had done it, and why she wasn't dead. Her mind searched trying to work past the pain but it overwhelmed her. She was shaken back to reality when the ambulance stopped and the doors were flung open. The chill of the night hit her and she looked up and away from the bustle of people around her.

The lights stung her eyes but squinting only made her face hurt even more. Her head throbbed and stomach continued to roll with nausea. In the exam room she was almost unaware of the nurse that helped her remove each article of clothing. After assisting her to put on the hospital gown Emily watched unfocused as she neatly fold the bloodied shirt and trousers into a clear bag.

"No jewelry in the CT." She said politely and reached out to remove her earrings.

Emily nodded. She had already disconnected. Her mind began to fill with memories of her friend and the continual confusion to what had happened. She wanted to shut it off but it played like a constant movie. It would end and go black right at the most crucial part, the second after she heard Sheila call out.

She blinked and suddenly realized the gurney was moving again and she was being taken somewhere. Her eyes burned, her face hurt and the images would not stop.

She spent what felt like an eternity of being told to lie still inside the large cold CT machine. She closed her eyes, hoping to drift off. She wondered what images were being seen. Could it see the part of her mind that was refusing her? She knew that was a crazy thought but she needed to figure out how to shake loose the loss of crucial time and events.

When the test was done and the cold sterile table was moved back Emily tried to sit up, but a hand gently stopped her.

"It's just a black eye." She softly protested. "I think the rest of my body works just fine."

"Not on my watch," the tech retorted and shook his head. He effortlessly hoisted her to the gurney and gestured to the two men waiting to transport her.

Too tired to fight any more she laid back and watched the blur of lights fly past as she was taken back for the doctor to finish his evaluation.

Emily stared at the ceiling with her one good eye. She tried to concentrate on the perforated squares above her as the doctor spoke through his examination. He checked every appendage, and asked her the same repetitive questions the EMT and nurse had. This time she remembered her name but still didn't know the date. She listened to him make comments on each bruise.

Finishing his assessment he waited until he had her full attention before he spoke. "The CT scan was clear but you have a concussion along with a fracture of Zygomatic bone."

Emily just stared at him, listening but unimpressed. She was alive everything else was just details.

He took her silence for ignorance and dumbed it down. "You have a broken cheek bone."

He pointed to the u shaped bruise on the side of her hip. "Took a boot to the side?"

"I guess, I don't know." Emily lifted a shoulder in irritation. "You tell me."

He suspiciously squinted his eyes at her but continued to speak. "The best thing to do for the fracture is to leave it alone. We're going to keep you over night to monitor the concussion, and if your nausea and headache are better in the morning you will be released."

Emily nodded her response and the doctor helped replace her gown. As he finished he took a few steps back to make notes in her chart. Two shadowed forms appearing in the door drew her attention away from the doctor's pen attacking the paper in front of him. She was surprised at how long it had taken for the officers to get there. She didn't have much to give them, and actually hoped they had more information for her.

* * *

Derek slowed down only when he approached the room he was told Emily was in. He moved past the officers exiting through the doorway. He had a million questions for them, but at that moment he just wanted to see Emily and make sure she was okay. He stopped at the entrance and took her in. She laid back with her eyes closed and arms crossed loosely in her lap, the white sheet she was under was folded neat and tight at her waist.

He tried not to cringe at the state of her face. Half of it was a canvas of various shades of purples and so swollen her right eye was lost somewhere in the bulging skin. He glanced over the rest of her and not seeing any other obvious injuries he gently made himself known by rapping lightly on the door. He faked a smile when her one eye opened and moved to see who was disturbing her.

"Morgan," she whispered and tried to sit up.

He put his hands out to stop her. "Don't sit up for me, just relax."

She just stared at him. Her hands subtly fidgeting in her lap was the only movement.

"How are you feeling?" He asked tentatively.

"Like my head's going to explode." She said dryly.

He moved closer to the bed and grabbed her hand stopping her anxious habit.

"Emily you have no idea-" He cut himself off not wanting to dwell on all the other horrific endings he imagined. She was alive and in front of him, and she wouldn't want him to go there either. His mind quickly switched gears to finding the son of a bitch that dare mess with his loved ones.

"Are you up for some questions?" He asked lightly.

She drew in a breath and with the slow release she answered with words that expressed clear disappointment. "I was actually hoping you could answer mine."

He remained silent and turned around grabbing the chair that was pressed against the wall. He pulled it tight to the side of the bed and sat down.

She swallowed and quietly explained. "I don't remember anything. I mean I can up until a point but then it all goes black."

"Okay," he said replacing his hand on hers, "it's okay, let's just start from the beginning."

She closed her eyes attempting to remember better. "I was walking out of the restaurant."

"The Chinese restaurant?" Derek interrupted for clarification.

"Yeah. The street was empty; most of the shops had closed up already. I didn't see her heading towards me."

"Who?"

"Sheila. She almost knocked me over." Emily's eye was open now but was looking past Derek as if she was seeing the events unfold on the wall behind him. "She was injured and scared. She wouldn't tell me why but insisted we needed to get out of there and repeatedly said the name Frank."

"Who's Frank?"

"I don't know," Emily shrugged and winced at the movement. "Before I got the door open we were attacked. He took Sheila and retreated into the alley. I grabbed my gun and followed."

Emily paused and closed her eyes again as if searching her memory for what happened. Derek remained quiet and patiently waited for her to continue.

"Sheila yelled out and then that's when something hit me. I don't remember anything else after that."

"Did you discharge any rounds?"

"No, I don't think so." She looked at him with a look of concentration but finally gave up trying to find the answer. "I don't know. What does the Detective think?"

"Nothing is conclusive, but your weapon was discharged four times. The cook that called it in saw a man hovering over you but his presence spooked him and he took off."

"Doesn't make any sense." She said shaking her head.

"What's that?"

"What happened?" She looked to him her visible eye dark with pain. "It has been a little over three years since I'd seen Sheila."

"How do you know her?"

"Georgetown. We met through a few prerequisite courses we had together, then we became roommates. She went on to study law. Then two years after me she joined the academy and the FBI. We tried to stay in touch, but I just assumed it was the job."

Derek nodded in understanding and frustration at the same time. He knew she was a private person, but the slow reveal of her past and friends always seemed to come out at bad times. He couldn't help but wonder what other parts of this woman he didn't know. He couldn't deny how deep their own friendship was and how much he cared for her but was hurt that she had never spoke of this person that clearly had been a close friend.

Emily trying to sit up again tore him from his own mind and looked to where she was focused.

JJ pushed through the doorway and moved to the opposite side of the bed across from Morgan. Her eyes never left the brunette. Pure concern washed over her face.

"How are you?" She asked softly.

Emily responded with a similar sarcastic remark she had given Derek, and received a mild nervous chuckle from the blonde. He was about to speak when Aaron appeared in the doorway. He held a distraught look of worry as he took in Emily. Derek rose and moved to the door to intercede Hotch before he could fully enter.

"How's she doing?" The Unit Chief asked finally looking away from her.

Derek crossed his arms and swung his upper body to look at her then back to Aaron. "A concussion, and pretty shaken up. What do you have?"

"Garcia just watched the surveillance. It doesn't tell the whole story. Prentiss moves out of frame so the shooting is still unconfirmed. But it's clear that there is a fourth man running from the alley."

"Can Garcia get a positive ID on him?"

"No, he's wearing a hood and dark clothes and hunches down making it nearly impossible to get a height assessment."

"What the hell?" Derek said as quietly as he could muster. The last thing he wanted was Emily seeing his frustration at the lack of information.

"Reid and Rossi are on their way here now. They didn't recover anything more than what you got at the scene except the other victim's identifications."

"Yeah," Derek shook his head in the knowledge he had, "the female is Sheila, an old friend of Emily's."

"No," Hotch said with some confusion. "She was confirmed as Megan Sabosque."

"What? But," Derek paused and glanced back to Emily. She was humoring JJ but her attention was on them. "I don't understand. Why would she get that wrong?"

"I don't know, but we have a bigger problem."

"What's that?"

"He took Prentiss' purse."

Morgan stood speechless. The night had just become more frustrating and nothing was making sense. He looked back into the room again and this time returned the inquisitive stare Emily was giving him. He had more questions for her but feared she didn't have the answers they needed.

Derek turned and walked cautiously back into the room not breaking eye contact with the brunette. Emily quickly turned all of her attention to him; she knew something was wrong.

"What?" She asked warily.

Derek tentatively spoke as he approached her. "You're absolutely sure the woman was your friend Sheila?"

"Of course!" Emily responded in shocked at the doubt in his voice.

She looked around for answers. First to JJ then to Aaron, who was making his way in, and then back to Derek. "Why?"

Aaron spoke softly answering her question. "The female victim was identified as Megan Sabosque."

Emily's tensed at the information. "No, that can't be right!"

Derek placed his hand on her arm and tried to calm her, but she shrugged him off her good eye still locked in with Aaron.

"Emily," Hotch tried to console but the fire was already lit.

"What's going on?" She asked her obvious agitation growing.

Then without warning the bed sheet was flung to the side. Her legs spun over the side and she pushed off the edge to stand. The sudden movement became too much and she lurched to her side. Her face immediately drained of any remaining color and looked as if she was about to pass out.

"Whoa whoa. Where'ya going?" Morgan said as he caught her. Her body went limp in his arms and he gently guided her back onto the bed. She took in a few controlling breathes but didn't fight him. It was clear her focus was on regaining control of her bodies revolt.

"I don't understand." She murmured and sagged back against the pillows.

JJ gingerly rubbed her shoulder and arm. "We'll figure it out okay. You need to rest."

Emily shrugged off her friend's attempt to be reassuring, and looked back to Aaron. "There's something else, isn't there?"

He nodded, "The Unsub has your purse."

"Okay?"

"We believe he left you alive because the cook coming out ran him off. He could come back to finish what ever it was he started, and if he thinks you know something-" Aaron stopped himself the implications clear.

"So what are you suggesting?"

"I don't want you to be alone at any point."

JJ squeezed Emily's hand to get her attention. "You can stay with me. We have the guest room begging to be used."

"No, that's ridiculous."

Morgan jumped in adding to pressure. "This guy knows who you are, knows where you live and has keys."

"So I change the locks and carry my gun." Emily continued to oppose everyone's suggestions.

Aaron was about to speak when his phone drew his attention away. His scowl grew deeper as he silently excused himself to answer the call.

Derek watched Hotch leave the room and turned back to Emily. "I don't like the idea of you being alone either."

"Morgan." She protested.

"Please, Emily, I would just feel better. If you don't stay at JJ's let me at least stay at your place."

"You can't be around me twenty four hours a day. You both have a job to do."

"Emily please don't fight us on this one." JJ stepped in. "I agree with you, but it wouldn't hurt to trade off, you can stay with us for a few days when Derek's not occupying your couch."

Emily was too tired to argue or really protest. Not that she would ever admit it, but she did feel safer knowing Derek would be close.

"I'm going to call Garcia to get someone to your place to change the locks." JJ announced pulling her phone from her purse. "Then I'll head over and get you some clothes."

* * *

Sitting in a dark corner of a residential street a man sifted through the contents of the purse he had just dumped onto the seat next to him. Spotting the object he was searching for his hand went straight for it. Flicking the small flap of the wallet he opened it and ran his finger over the credit cards and settled on the one thing he was looking for. He pulled the drivers license and tossed the remains of the brown stitched leather to the floorboard. He examined the picture then looked to the name and address labeled next to it.

"Emily Prentiss," he whispered, "who are you?"

His hand went back to the pile on the seat and he began to toss the items back into the purse when he came across a one-fold black wallet. His curiosity heightened as he wedged his thumb between the crease and flipped it open. He blew out a breath as he read the information revealed within.

"Shit!" He cursed and scrubbed his free hand across his face. He could tell by the way she had been standing and talking when he approached that she was some sort of law enforcement, but not FBI. How had he missed that? It changed things, drastically. He stared out into the black night and was contemplating his next move when his phone alerted him of a call. He looked at the caller ID and tried to swallow the anxiety that was building up.

He tentatively brought the cell to his ear and cringed at the angry authoritative voice on the other end. _"What the hell did you do?"_

"I can explain-" He tried but was immediately cut off.

"_How the hell do you fuck up something so simple?"_

"It'll be taken care of."

"_It better be!"_ After a brief pause he knew what was coming and the harsh voice returned. _"Did you get it?"_

"It wasn't on her but-"

"_Not the words I want to hear." _

"I'll make quick work of it and get everything you need." He tried to reassure flipping the leather in his hand.

"_You better!"_

He read the subtext clearly and his anxiety bubbled to the surface. In a burst of frustration he threw the phone across the dash. He watched it bounce off the plastic and disappear into the dark shadows below. He couldn't help but think nothing was simple for him. His plan completely backfired and now had more of a mess to clean up.

_Too many loose ends_. He thought as he lifted the license and tucked it into the single fold wallet.

"Agent Emily Prentiss." Her name sounded more like a threat as it escaped through his clenched teeth. With one hand he gripped the wheel tightly and with the other turned the key firing up the engine. He continued to mumble under his breath as he pulled off the curb. "Let's find out exactly what you know."

* * *

_Phew so Emily is okay...but what could the mystery man be up to? _

_Thank you so much for reading!_

_Love to hear what you think!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you all so much for reading! The support is amazing! Please keep it coming!_

_Happy Reading!_

* * *

"_So, how long are you in DC?" Emily asked as she reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a chilled bottle of Chardonnay. _

_Sheila followed her lead and reached up to the cupboard above her for two wine glasses and set them gently on the counter. She leaned against it for support and crossed her arms. "For as long as I can. I was tired of being away from my true friends."_

_Emily smiled at her then turned her attention to digging out the corkscrew from the utensil drawer. Finding success she triumphantly raised it up in an exaggerated display. _"_Remember this one?"_

_Sheila laughed as she examined the opener made up to look like a French waiter. "Of course! Good ole Pierre."_

_Emily nodded her approval and made quick work of the bottle and popped the cork. Setting the cork and screw to the side she tilted the bottle and watched the pale yellow liquid splash into the glass. _"_Do you remember that cheap wine we drank in college?"_

"_Boones!" They said in unison and broke into a small fit of laughter._

"_No cork and a twist top." Sheila mused as she wrapped her fingers around the stem of her glass and lifted it up swirling the liquid along the curved surface._

"_Hey I liked that wine." Emily chuckled and picked her glass up extending it to meet her friend's. "Welcome back, I expect more nights like this."_

"_I agree Tess, many more nights like this." Sheila nodded and took a sip of the crisp wine._

"_Wow," Emily said smiling at the nickname. "I have not heard that in ages."_

_Sheila laughed and tilted her glass towards Emily. "That's because no one is as awesome as me."_

"_That's true. But you're the only one who has ever called me that."_

"_Because being called Emily Prentiss all the time gets so boring. Plus it's ours."_

_Emily smiled and shook her head. "No, it only came about because you couldn't spell Prentiss."_

"_Whatever." Sheila giggled with a roll of her eyes._

_Emily set her glass down and pressed back against the counter and studied her friend briefly. "So what department did you say you were headed to?"_

"_I didn't." Sheila answered quickly. Her voice held a hesitation and she slightly turned her body away. Her attention was suddenly fully on her wine. _

"_Oh, okay, my bad." Emily teased trying to lesson the sudden tension she felt from her. Sheila's behavior was not lost on Emily, but she wanted to be careful not to lose her. They were similar in the ways they shut down and kept people out, and she refused that to happen._

"_No, its just I'm not sure-" Sheila stopped and continued to stare into the liquids glimmering depths. Then as fast as her hesitation was there it was gone and she took a long swallow of the Chardonnay. _

"_No problem." Emily said eyeing Sheila again, but didn't press the issue. _

_Sheila pushed off the ledge and moved to the large window overlooking the city. _

_"So, how did you manage to snag this place?" She asked changing the subject._

_Emily allowed for the subject to be dropped. She wanted to find out what was bothering her but it was clear that it was not up for discussion that night. She would respect that and let the evening be a joyous reunion and reminiscing of good times. There would be plenty of time now that Sheila had returned to DC. Emily had not known that when that door had closed behind her it would be the last time they would share a laugh again._

* * *

Derek eased his foot off the gas and gently applied the brakes. He wanted the transitions from the starts and stops to be smooth so not jostle his passenger too much. When they came to a complete stop he glanced curiously to Emily. She had not moved from the initial position she had settled in after they left the hospital. She held her head pressed firmly against the headrest with her eyes closed. Her hands listlessly rested on her lap, and her only movements came from the car's progression. Derek knew she wasn't asleep, but was going to let her be for the time being. There was a lot to take in and they could rehash everything once she had gotten some real sleep. He hoped some of her memory would come back and there was no doubt she was hoping for the same.

The slowing vehicle had brought Emily around and her eyes flickered open. She looked blankly through the windows before realizing they had made it to their destination. Carefully she leaned forward and pressed the button to release her seatbelt. Derek saw her moving and spoke up to stop her.

"Emily, wait."

She turned to him, a begging look to not bring anything up right then painted clearly on her face.

He disregarded her and spoke up anyway. "Garcia's looking into it. The files are sealed up pretty tight, and it's not like she can just casually open them."

"I know."

"At least we know that Sheila was undercover. It's a step in the direction of understanding what happened."

"I get it." Emily said weakly and turned away reaching for the lever to open the door.

Derek hastily climbed out of the driver's side and rushed around barely beating Emily fully exiting his vehicle.

"You make it really hard to be a gentleman." He attempted to joke and extended his hand to assist her out.

Emily accepted his help with a forced smile and stepped out and onto the sidewalk. She noted the sun finally burning through the damp grey cloud cover. The wind still blew and cut straight though the thin layer of cotton sweats JJ had brought to the hospital for her. She wrapped her arms around herself and hunched forward to hold in her own body heat. Seeing her discomfort Morgan hurried to the other side of her and wrapped his arms over her. She didn't fight him but continued moving them towards the building.

Just as Derek was reaching out to open the door a voice calling out stopped their progress. When they turned a uniformed officer that looked like he was straight out of the academy greeted them. He held an overly serious expression as if to compensate for his youthful appearance. Quickly he introduced himself and informed them he was taking first watch. Derek eyed the man suspiciously. It was clear he wasn't impressed with his size or rookie look.

Derek glanced past the young man then to the surrounding area. "Its just you?"

"Yes sir." He responded unflinching. "I'll be here until 16:00 when I'll be replaced by Sergeant Grady."

Morgan continued to stare the man down and arched a brow. "Hmmm."

"Morgan." Emily hissed under her breath. She was not interested in being witness to the unnecessary alpha behavior.

"What? I'm just glad I'm staying." Derek shrugged not caring if he was heard.

Emily shook her head and sincerely thanked the man before she created some distance from Derek. She could only think that the poor guy should be spending time with his family, if he had one, or doing anything other than playing castle guard for her.

The quick trip to her apartment was silent and only broken when they entered and Emily gestured to the kitchen. "Make yourself at home. Sorry there's not a whole lot in the fridge."

"I'll be fine, just go up and get some rest." He then spun slowly rotating his hand with his finger extended to indicate the entire space. "I'm going to double check all your locks and windows then go talk to officer Newbie down stairs. Do you need anything?"

_My memory and friend back_, she thought to herself, but simply shook her head instead. She climbed the stairs slowly. Although the swelling of her eye had lessoned some, her vision was still slightly obstructed and made navigation harder. When she finally reached her room she placed the clear bag she had trudged home from the hospital onto the bed and tore it open pulling out the blood soaked clothing. She wondered why she even kept them they were no good and just added to the nightmare. She crammed the shirt back into the bag. Then lifted the slacks to do the same when something falling to the ground stopped her. The small dark object bounced onto the carpet and settled out of sight under the bed. With a supported hand on the bed she carefully lowered herself down to see what it could be. She knew she hadn't had anything in her pockets except for her phone. She tentatively reached out and grabbed it. Holding it between her fingers she let it roll into the palm of her hand to get a better view. Tilting it to the light she recognized that it was a flash drive.

It definitely wasn't hers and had no recollection of anyone giving it to her. The interaction with Sheila was clear in her mind and nothing exchanged hands. Sheila must have tucked it in her pocket. Curious and confused she walked over to the desk near the window and flipped up her laptop. As she waited for it to boot up she ran the bloodstained object through her fingers. She couldn't ignore the thought at the back of her mind that nothing good was coming. Seeing that the computer was ready she inserted the drive into the USB port. When its logo popped up on the desktop she moved her wireless mouse to double click on the file. There was little surprise when she was denied access to see any information from it.

With an irritated sigh she pulled the flash drive out and powered down her computer. The pain in her head continued to plague her and trying to remember everything was making her more exhausted. She just couldn't let it go. At the very least she needed to get the search for information to progress more quickly. She shuffled around her bed and lifted her landline from the cradle and dialed Penelope.

"_Oh Emily!"_ The Analyst broke out, "_So good to actually hear your voice. I heard and know you're okay but to actually, I mean. I'm just so relieved you have no idea. When Derek called me I. Oh dear!"_

"Penelope!" Emily quickly jumped in to save her from herself. "Thank you, but please."

"_Sorry,"_ she said with a start and cleared her throat. _"What can I do for you?"_

Emily continued in an effort to keep the conversation moving forward. "I was wondering if you were busy?"

"_For you no, never, what do you need?"_

"I have something I need you to take a look at, but until I know what it is I don't want anyone else to know about it." Emily looked back to the device cupped in her hand.

"_Oh, Em,"_ She stopped short. Then after an uncomfortable pause she released a deep sigh before she spoke up again, _"you know how I hate secrets."_

"I know and I'm sorry to do this to you, but it's really important to me."

There was no pause this time when Penelope answered. "_Okay my love. I'll be there forthwith."_

"Thank you."

After ending the call and replacing the receiver she tucked the flash drive tight against the base of the phone. She stood and stared at it hoping that it would reveal answers and not create more. Unfortunately she knew that would not be the case. Nothing about Sheila was ever simple. There had always been a mystery about her, and that was something she had always said about Emily also. They had always felt like they were kindred spirits in that way.

Yet, this new information was almost hard to swallow. Sheila was full of surprises, and nothing was more shocking when she had told her she was joining the FBI. She had always been adamant about her life goal of opening a family law in a small town. Marry her dream man and have two point five kids with the white picket fence. She had wanted her children to have completely different lives then what she had. When Emily had asked her why the FBI her simple response was why not, the family could wait. She truly believed nothing was out of reach for her, or really for anyone. If it was something you wanted then you go out and get it, no matter what. Plus she said being in the same career field they could _play_ together more. The truth was after she joined they seemed to drift further apart. Nothing had changed when they had a chance to meet up or talk, but the gaps between those visits had grown wider.

Emily still couldn't wrap her head around her really being gone. She attempted to fight the memories of the past but they continued to surface. More so as she realized new ones were never to be made again.

Emily tried to shake off the agony and decided a shower was the next logical step before Garcia got there. She moved to her closet and opened it. She paused and looked up to the top shelf catching sight of a stack of rectangular boxes. Her mind yelled at her to not do it, but she ignored the voice and reached up and retrieved the top box pulling it down. Wiping off the thick layer of dust she flipped the lid and let it fall to the ground unnoticed. A row of tightly packed photos greeted her. She randomly reached in and pulled a single sheet out. Looking at the image in front of her it became all too real. Why was she doing this to herself? Why torture herself with happy memories that could never be brought up with the one person that could understand them?

She walked back towards the bed and clumsily set the box on the end. It teetered on the edge but weight and gravity won and it toppled from the mattress. With a crash it collided with the carpet causing the pictures to spray out and scatter across the floor. Emily ignored the mess; she was clutching the photo now. Almost crinkling it into a ball. It was a simple candid picture of her and Sheila at a college party. Their arms tightly wrapped around each other laughing about something happening behind the camera. What or whom she could not remember. They held wide carefree smiles like the time would never get better than right then.

She could no longer look into her eyes and pressed the image tightly to her chest. Her legs began to give out and she sank down. She missed the bed and slide down along its edge and finally landed on her knees. She started to shake. The tremors began in her hands and traveled though out her entire being. She felt like she began to unravel one emotional stitch at a time. Letting the anguish finally envelope her she silently cried. The ache in her heart was more powerful than the broken bone or swollen knot on her face. It was a pain she had not felt so deeply since she lost Matthew Benton.

She was more than aware that a piece of her had cracked inside. As much as she wanted to fall into a million pieces she could not allow it. It wasn't her. She needed to rein in her emotions and lock them away to the forbidden part of her mind. She needed to remain clear headed and think logically. It wouldn't do Sheila any good if she fell apart. Finding the much-needed control she pulled the picture out in front of her once again looked into the sparkling eyes of her friend.

"I'm so sorry." She whispered and placed the picture facedown on top to the small pile that had accumulated next to her. With shaky arms she pressed her weight on the bed and slowly rose. She stood motionless in the middle of her room. She felt lost. She should take a shower and try to wash the nightmare off. She should try and sleep. Her head hurt. She needed find out who killed her friend and why. She stepped back in her confusion and when the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed they gave out forcing her to lower onto the mattress. She sat unmoving for a moment until the exhaustion overwhelmed her to the point of laying back. She rolled to her side and stared at everything but saw nothing. Her eyes became heavy and she stopped fighting it and let herself fade.

* * *

An ear shattering crash broke the fitful sleep Emily had drifted off to. With her heart constricting her throat she shot up half expecting to see someone standing over her, but there was no one. She looked around the room searching for what had startled her when she heard a series of loud thuds and what sounded like objects colliding. The alarming noises were originating from down stairs. Panic filled her as she clutched the comforter willing her thundering heart to slow. She slowly slipped from the bed, attempting to not make a sound, and simultaneously opened the drawer of the side table. Without taking her focus from the door she reached in and pulled the gun she had tucked away. With her other hand she grabbed the clip that had lain next to the weapon and smoothly joined the two into one.

There was a long stretch of silence but Emily refused to relax, it only made her listen more intently to every sound no matter how minuscule. A sudden creak from weight shifting on the stairs made her skin crawl and her pulse once again jack hammered in her ears. She tried to focus on the door but her sight was off and was forced to rely on her instincts and training.

With a loud click the knob turned and the door began to slowly slide inward. Emily could tell instantly that it was not a hand pushing it open, but something else was pressed against the wood. She tensed more her Glock now held in both hands in front of her. She knew it wasn't Derek; he would have knocked and announced himself. She feared that the unknown man overpowered the officer outside and had taken Derek out.

When the body appeared in the shadow of the doorway Emily found her voice and released a warning to the intruder. She adjusted her stance and tightened her grip on the gun. Slowly she counted to ten in an attempt to calm her mind and prepare for what was coming.

* * *

_So what is coming? Could it be our UnSub? _

_Hope you are enjoying the story! Please don't hesitate to let me know your thoughts! The reviews have really made me think and help with the story a lot so thank you!_


	5. Chapter 5

_Thank you for the continued support of the story! I truly appreciate every bit of it! I hope it continues to entertain!_

_Happy reading!_

* * *

Emily's warning didn't matter when the shadowed figure finally emerged into view. The person was not who she'd anticipated and with sudden relief she relaxed.

Penelope however didn't find solace in the fact that Emily was standing in the middle of the room prepared for a confrontation, let alone staring down a barrel of a gun. Her instant response was an ear-shattering scream and in a feeble attempt to protect herself she threw the tray towards the perpetrator.

Emily froze briefly, shocked at her friend's exaggerated response, but quickly stepped back as she saw the bowl of soup lift off and head towards her. Her movement wasn't quite fast enough as it landed directly in front of her. The splashing of the noodles and hot broth nipped at her boots and soaked quickly into the carpet. The teacup clattered against the bowl. Its contents spilled out and mixed in with the other mess before being trapped beneath the tray that clamored on top of it all. The two women stood motionless as everything settled.

The sound of Derek bolting up the stairs echoed down the hall and filtered into the now quiet room. As he exploded in the door flew open further and banged violently against the wall. He filled the doorway, gun drawn, ready to confront the danger. He immediately realized the situation and lowered his weapon. His eyes roamed between the two women and then to the disaster covering the carpet.

"What the hell?" He demanded looking to Garcia who stood silently cursing and clutching her heaving chest.

She then pointed an accusatory finger at Emily. "Ask her."

"I'm sorry Pen," Emily spoke in a low voice. She shook a few lingering noodles off and then looked back up to the two curious faces in front of her. She straightened suddenly feeling uncomfortable and exposed.

"What was all that noise downstairs?" She asked quickly to defer any verbal concerns her way.

"I Umm…well, uhh, I guess now your response makes sense." Penelope stuttered and looked guiltily to Derek. "I'm sorry that was my fault. I got a little ambitious with carrying in the groceries I bought for you. Derek tried to help me but I refused him and lost my balance."

"Oh," Emily looked to Derek for confirmation and when his eyes gave it to her she turned and moved towards the bed. She set her gun on the side table and sank down onto the bed with a heavy sigh.

Derek began to move further into the room but Penelope stopped him and gently pushed him back through the doorway. "Give us a minute?"

He looked past the Analyst to Emily. He didn't like what he was seeing and apprehension filled him again. He gave Penelope a pointed look before he hesitantly backed out.

Emily watched as Penelope maneuver around the bits of chicken and vegetables that had settled on top of the now soaked carpet. She followed Garcia's eyes as they went past the spill to the upturned box and various piles of scattered photos.

Garcia was mindful to not step on or ruin any of the prints that skirted the bed. She successfully managed to find a spot and lowered herself down next to Emily. Silently she crossed her legs then rested her hands on the raised knee. As much as she wanted to tell Emily everything that was running through her mind she had to hold back not to overwhelm her more.

But feeling she had to be the one that spoke first Garcia pointed to the soiled carpet. "We made quite a mess of this room, didn't we?"

"Don't worry about it." Emily said without hesitation.

"Oh, I'm not. It's all your fault anyway, scaring me like that!" Penelope teased and looked at Emily. The smallest hint of amusement tugged at her face, but drained away quickly.

Penelope shifted on the bed to fully face Emily. "Are you okay?"

Even with her directly facing her, Emily didn't look to her friend, but did respond to appease her. "I'll be fine."

"Come on Em." Garcia sighed in disbelief.

Emily looked over but deferred her concerns again. "What have you found out?"

"Um, not a whole lot."

"How is that possible?" Emily asked shaking her head in disbelief. "There has to be something. When did Sheila go undercover?"

Garcia began to fidget uncomfortably. "I had to dig for the information I got and I mean _dig_ for it. Basically when Sheila Winters became Megan Sabosque the FBI made sure it stuck. She wasn't coming out until they had what they wanted, and now everything is sealed even tighter."

"What the hell?" Emily asked under he breath and then looked away. Her eyes landed on her table lamp and then to the flash drive she had set by the phone. As if she suddenly remembered it she leaned over to swipe it from the side table. Once it was in her hands she turned and presented it to Garcia.

"I think this may hold some answers, but I couldn't access the files. I'm hoping you can get into them?"

"Where did you get it?" She asked, but realized the answer quickly and her eyes grew big. "Did Sheila give it to you?"

Emily shook her head, "I don't remember but it was in my pocket. Please let me know the second you get into it okay? I will pass it along to Hotch, but it comes to me first, okay?"

"Of course." Penelope promised and tucked it away.

A movement caused Emily to look past Garcia to Derek who now silently hovered in the doorway. "What is it?" She asked.

"A meeting with Strauss, and an Agent Gordon, Sheila's partner."

Penelope jumped up creating a barrier between Emily and Derek. "You don't have to go. You just got out of the hospital."

"And I'm fine." She shot back and rose to her feet. "Maybe they have some information to what happened and who the mystery man is." She said with some hope.

"Okay," Penelope said with hesitation. "Is there anything I can do? Clean up that mess maybe?"

"No, just leave it, you have work to do."

"Right," Garcia agreed and took steps towards Derek.

"I just need ten minutes and I'll be down." Emily said as she walked Penelope to the door.

She closed it quickly when the two completely stepped out. She knew what they were thinking but she craved solitude for a moment. She hoped that the flash drive and maybe even the meeting with Strauss would peel another layer away of the unknown that plagued her. She hastily grabbed some clothes and laid them out on the bed before rushing through a shower.

* * *

The Agent standing in front of Strauss' desk was smaller than Emily expected, but did look like he made a good undercover. A thick mustache covered his top lip, and she couldn't help but think he kept it to compensate for the thinning dirty blonde hair on his head. He wore plain front chinos and a light blue collared shirt. Nothing spectacular but did add to his plainness. An effort to be non descript so he goes unnoticed, but hears all the important conversations.

His face was drawn in a permanent scowl and heavy bags circled his sad dark eyes. Emily hoped the sadness was for her friend, but the tension that exuded from the man gave her a different feeling. A nagging feeling that the meeting wasn't going to be about solving the murder or divulging information. She found out quickly that she was right.

She glanced to Strauss who was trying not to cringe at the state of her face but failed. Emily had forgotten she was not a pretty sight, but really didn't cared about it, and looked back to the agent shifting impatiently in front of her.

He stepped forward and extended a hand. "Gordon."

She returned the gesture, "Prentiss."

He nodded and looked to Strauss to begin the meeting. She cleared her throat and pointed to the chairs across from her. "Please have a seat."

Emily hesitated but obliged and moved the chair slightly to the side to angle it to face both people.

"I want to apologize for you having to be pulled into this mess." He started.

"I'm sorry?" Emily asked confused to his point. "What do you mean pulled into this mess?"

The Section Chief jumped in quickly. "What Agent Gordon means is that as unfortunate as the circumstances are they are very sensitive as well."

"Sensitive?" Emily inquired.

Gordon adjusted slightly in his chair to angle himself to fully face Emily. "The case we have building against Carbone hinges on the information I was suppose to retrieve from Agent Winters two days ago."

"Okay," she said encouraging him to continue. Her mind went to the flash drive, but was not going to speak up about it just yet. Her gut told her there was more to the story.

"When she didn't show or respond I became concerned. We have no idea what happened and why she was running or from whom." He looked briefly to Erin and had a silent conversation before he turned back to Emily. "This is where we have to tread lightly. I've called on my contacts and as far as they know Sheila was still being referred to as Megan. So it means she was not compromised."

The look was not lost on Emily and she sat up a little straighter. "So what do you need from me?"

"Like I said we're sorry you got pulled into this, but it will be handled."

Emily began to understand what was happening and felt the anger rise. "Handled? You mean swept under the rug?" She asked crisply.

"Agent Prentiss-" Strauss warned.

Agent Gordon put his hand up and looked to Strauss, "it's okay, and understandable." He directed himself back to Emily. "I know she was your friend but she was also mine."

Emily listened carefully but somehow felt his words and emotional attachment to them were forced. She held her tongue to let him finish and get to his point so she could move on and continue her search for the truth.

Seeing Emily's sudden distance he leaned towards her. "You have to understand, we've been building a case for two and a half years, and if Sheila's identity has been exposed then all we have is lost."

"And you just said that as far as you know she wasn't, so what's the problem?"

"We have to allow the public and Carbone to believe that was the woman that died in the alley was Megan Sabosque. We will honor Sheila quietly but-"

Emily shot up and stepped back at his words. "Honored quietly? Seriously?!"

"Agent!" Strauss was warning again but Emily had held herself long enough.

"Sheila was a hell of an agent and person. You have your case, use what you have and get your men, but don't allow her to drift into obscurity as the person she most certainly was not!"

"I'm only here as a courtesy Agent Prentiss because she was your friend, but you have to realize that it is no longer in your hands. We will allow Detective Long to work the murders and your assault, but as far as the Bureau is concerned there is no need for further investigation."

"We also realize the danger put on you by this man and will be diligent until he is caught." Strauss tried to add but Emily was not listening. All she heard was a cover up and thinly veiled attempt at caring whom Sheila really was.

She opened her mouth to say something but thought better of it. It would do no good. She realized the point of the meeting. They wanted her to shut up, and step away to let the case close. She felt her blood boiling to how easily people were disregarded. She shook her head in disapproval, but conceded for the time being.

"So we're all on the same page?" Strauss asked to break the silence and end the meeting.

Emily looked to the two and nodded slowly grinding out her answer. "Yes Ma'am."

"Good, good." Gordon quickly added with a smile and began to rise from his chair.

Emily forced a smile back and turned to leave. She could feel his eyes as they bore into her but she ignored him and silently left, her mission clear.

* * *

Emily's headache throbbed and her patience hung by a thread. She redirected herself to the bathroom before charging into Aaron's office. She needed to find a calm, but felt like it was not forthcoming. Pushing through the door she quickly checked the stalls to make sure she was alone. Finding that the room was vacant she moved to the sink and turned the knob and let the water run. She wanted to fight looking into the mirror but quickly got lost in the reflection of her beaten face. She began to feel overwhelmed by the swirling emotions that had been building up again. She bent down and cupped her hands under the water letting it pool in them. She gently splashed her face in an attempt to cool her fiery cheeks. With trembling hands she hastily pulled the lever for a towel. The rough brown paper felt harsh on her raw face, but the sting brought her around and she looked back to her pulpy swollen face. It could have been worse for her. She had to believe she was alive to bring the truth to the surface so her friend could rest in peace.

She needed to keep her mind clear and the distraction of the drumming on her skull was being a nuisance. She didn't want to take anything, but if it took the edge off for her to think straight then she needed to compromise. She reached into her purse and found her bottle of pain medication. After prying off the top she shook two pills into her palm. She turned the faucet on again but so only a pencil thin stream ran down the porcelain sink. Tossing the oblong white pills into her mouth she quickly washed then down with the tap water.

She ignored her face in the mirror this time as she came up and grabbed her purse to leave. Pausing outside the bathroom she saw Agent Gordon turn the corner. He nodded towards her, but she played it off as if she hadn't seen him and spun quickly to head in the opposite direction. She had not traveled far down the hall when she heard fast footsteps gaining on her. She wasn't surprised at the person catching up to her. She stopped walking and pivoted towards the approaching man so abruptly that he nearly ran into her. He took a small step back, but adjusted himself and puffed his chest out. She looked him over with annoyance. Her head seemed to hurt worse in his presence. She wanted to create distance from this man but he was a constant gnat invading her space.

"Agent Gordon?" She forced out.

"Please call me Benjamin." He said with a half smile.

Emily didn't respond and tilted her head to encourage him to get to his point.

He took her cue and mirrored her stance. "I have a feeling you aren't going to follow orders and let this sit."

"What makes you think that?"

"You don't have to be a member of the BAU to be an expert on human behavior."

Emily shrugged. "So what's your point?"

"Look, I'm sorry." He paused and let his shoulder's relax a bit. "We got off on the wrong foot. I don't like this either, and I'm personally going to stay on the case."

"I have a hard time believing that."

"I'm sorry?" He asked getting defensive.

"If you cared about her as much as you say then you wouldn't be so willing to it be covered up."

"It's not that simple, and there is too much at stake here." He looked around briefly before continuing. "There is also a lot you don't understand."

Emily just scoffed not interested in hearing his excuses.

"I need your help." He stated plainly.

"That doesn't seem to be the case, as was clearly stated to me in the meeting we were both in."

Her sharp responses had created a new tension in him, but he continued with his request and managed to keep his tone low and calm. "I understand that you don't remember much from what happened, but can I ask what you remember her saying to you."

"It's all in there." She said gesturing to the file he had in his hands.

"I'd really prefer to hear it from you, if you don't mind."

She wasn't sure if it was the man that was grating her nerves or the entire situation, and couldn't hold back a heavy sigh of frustration. "Nothing except that we needed to get to my car and she mentioned a man named Frank."

He stood up a little straighter and cleared his throat. "This is where I'm confused. Why Frank?"

"Do you know him?" Emily asked hoping some new information may actually be revealed.

"There is one guy but he's pretty inconsequential."

"If Sheila said his name he's not inconsequential."

"She was in shock." He tried to reason. "But I will have a look into it. Did she say anything else or give you anything?"

Emily shook her head and knew she couldn't reveal her knowledge of the flash drive. Her trust issues were shoved into overdrive by the way Agent Gordon was straddling the line between truth and lies.

He stared at her as if he was attempting to read her mind. When he didn't say anything else she forced a small smile and began to turn away again. Suddenly a strong hand wrapped around her forearm and stopped her.

She froze shocked by his boldness. Her body tensed ready for a fight.

"Really?" She bit out.

He released her and stepped back, looking around nervously as if he just remembered he was standing in the hall of the BAU and not his usual environment where that behavior may have been acceptable.

"I'm sorry, I think I'm taking the loss a little harder than I thought. You were the last person to see her alive, I guess I'm just hoping you know more."

She scoffed at his thin apology. He was backpedaling now and she didn't hold back any longer. "Sure, because letting her be remembered as someone she's not is the right thing to do."

He glared at her and fired back, "Sheila knew what she was getting into. Your involvement is unfortunate but you have to understand that it is a dangerous world you're stepping into."

"What exactly are you getting at?"

"Look," He said releasing a breath, "I want to find the person that did this too, but we can't fight each other. We need to help each other. We're on the same team, remember?"

She realized quickly that he was right and she did need him. He was her way into understanding what Sheila dealt with in her other life. He had information and fighting him would not get her very far.

"Right." She nodded and forced another smile, this time trying not to make the insincerity as obvious.

"Good good," He said seemingly to believe her. "Then we will be in touch."

"Yeah." She smiled again and this time he let her continue her exit. She picked up her pace to get to the Unit Chief's office.

* * *

Hotch had just settled back into his chair when he caught the glimpse of Emily's raven hair as she reached the top of the stairs. He glanced to Rossi who had turned to acknowledge her entering.

She nodded to Dave but turned her attention to Aaron. "Her name is Sheila Winters. Born in Richmond Virginia to Kimberly and Paul Winters. Attended Georgetown and graduated Suma Cum Laude before going onto Georgetown Law."

Hotch stood up stopping her small rant. "Emily-"

"She doesn't deserve to be remembered as a criminal!" Her words thick with the emotions that were consuming her.

"And she won't be."

"That's not what I've been informed and I know you've been told the same."

"Yes." He answered honestly.

Emily crossed her arms and looked down to Rossi as if she just remembered he was in the room, but not caring redirected herself back to Aaron. "And you're okay with that?"

"Not at all. But honestly my concern at this moment isn't Sheila."

"What?" Emily asked in disbelief.

Hotch cleared his throat and for an instant she saw something more than concern of a boss. There was something more plaguing him. His eyes darted to Rossi and anything that was there was quickly masked and his voice became authoritative again. "We have not been invited in but we can help. Whoever this man is he is dangerous and needs to be taken very seriously."

"We have already established that," Emily countered, "and what UnSub isn't dangerous or not to be taken seriously?"

Rossi spoke up the first time since Emily had come in. "The difference is you."

"Meaning?"

"We have to assume he is targeting you now. He may think you know his identity, or something, anything really. There are too many unknown variables that can't be ignored."

Emily's mind immediately went to the flash drive. She opened her mouth but just as quickly snapped it shut. The timing didn't feel right. She didn't know what it had on it yet. After Garcia gave her the report she would share it, but she felt an overwhelming need to protect it for now, to protect Sheila.

Aaron's chair creaked as his weight pressed back into it. The noise brought her attention back to him.

He leaned forward to engage her. "The doctor said to rest, so go home and rest. If Strauss still sees you hanging around it won't go over well. Come back tomorrow with fresh eyes, maybe some sleep will help your memory."

"Sure." She said half-heartedly. For the time being she would give up her fight. She did feel some comfort knowing that Hotch would let them skate around the orders and continue to look into everything.

* * *

The whole drive back all Emily could think was that the day had turned out worse than she had expected. She wanted to climb out of her skin, but she had no-where to run or hide. She only accepted going home because she needed to somehow regroup. It was only logical that it was the best place to go.

"I know you want to keep working, but everyone's on it." Derek spoke up after minutes of forced silence.

"Hmm." Was all she could respond. She wanted to believe it but felt like time was slipping through her hands. Emily thought back to the last text she got from Garcia that said that she was close to cracking into the files. It was hard not demanding the information now, but she knew it would take time. She believed that Sheila felt that whatever was on the flash drive was important and knew Emily would find it.

Emily and Derek noted the officer in the undercover car that had pulled up only a minute behind them and parked near the entrance to her complex. Even with Derek's protective hovering these poor men had to follow her. For everyones sake she silently hoped for a swift resolution, but a nagging voice in her head told her that was unlikely.

As Emily began to insert her key into the lock the door swung in as if it hadn't been locked or even latched. She froze her heart skipping a beat. Both agents instantly reached for their guns. Emily began to push the door open further when Morgan sidestepped her. As he passed through his arm went back in a protective move to keep Emily behind him. Her muscles tensed at the unnecessary action, but refocused knowing that there was something bigger to deal with. She held her words and silently stepped inside keeping each movement in time with his.

Emily fought her jaw from dropping at the state of her apartment. She had to disregard the chaos and concentrate on the fact that there could still potentially be someone inside. As they pressed inward the disaster that lay ahead only became worse. They had to step around shattered glass and silverware that trailed out from the kitchen and scattered across the hardwood. Every drawer had been yanked out and laid overturned in piles on the floor. Cabinets had been flung open, a few barely hanging by a hinge. Her living room revealed a similar fate. Cushions ripped to pieces, the stuffing covered the floor like fresh snow. There was a frantic rage that was clearly laid out before them.

Derek paused briefly at the stairs and glanced back at Emily before he took careful steps up. Emily remained close behind him. To her confusion he hesitated halfway and gave Emily a look of concern. She knew what he was thinking, but glared at him to forget her physical state and get on with it. She could handle herself. A concussion and broken cheekbone was not going to stop her at that point.

Reaching the top he motioned for her to clear the first room as he moved down the hall to set up and enter the master bedroom. She nodded and continued. She had it cleared quickly and tried to swallow the disaster that was her guest room. She knew what he was looking for and not finding it must have sent him into a fury. She was surprised that her neighbors hadn't reported a commotion.

A loud bang stopped Emily cold and she turned back to exit. She slowly peered out. With her heart hammering and every nerve stretched to its limits she tightened her grip over the butt of her gun. Clearing the hallway she tuned all of her senses to the room Derek had just entered. Keeping her back to the wall she moved swiftly to the door. She stood teetering on the edge, listening hard. There was no sound. No shuffling of feet, nothing. She held her breath to hear better, but still got nothing.

She knew she couldn't waste anymore time and with a slow release of her breath she turned into the room. The scene in front of her was not what she was hoping for. Derek lay on his back his head turned towards her. His eyes were closed and a small line of blood trailed down from a gash side of his head. Over him stood an unfamiliar man holding Derek's gun.

"Drop the gun and stay where you are!" Emily demanded as she stepped over the threshold. She clutched her Glock in both hands and pointed his chest.

The large muscular man froze but refused her command and simply glanced her way. It was obvious he had no intention to release the gun he had directed to Morgan's unconscious body. She fought the urge to look to her partner but the man looming over him demanded her attention.

The man's jaw was tight and his eyes were fiercely locked with hers. Not an ounce of fear flickered in them. He casually adjusted the gun in his grip.

"Drop the gun!" She barked again.

He swayed on his feet. A look of defiance flashed in his eyes and in that instant moved the gun exposing a clean midsection shot for her. Without hesitation she released a round. He didn't have a chance to react as the bullet collided with him and he crumpled to the ground.

Emily smoothly moved forward her gun trained on the intruder that now lay motionless next to Derek. As she loomed over the strange man she lifted his dropped weapon and secured it into the back of her waistband. She examined him. His chest did not move nor did his eyes flutter with obvious life. She looked curiously to the expected hole her bullet should have put in his midsection. She quickly found the entrance but curious that there was no blood. She continued with extreme caution and curled on her fingers around her gun feeling its security. She decided against checking a pulse and rather to secure him whether alive or not. Realizing she had no cuffs on her she looked back to Morgan, who was still unmoving. She didn't have a chance to realize his true condition when there was a sudden movement beneath her. She turned and her eyes met with wide murderous ones. His hand flew up and gripped tightly onto her wrist with a bone crushing force. She felt herself losing her hold on the gun. In an instant he had her flipped and wrestled her to the ground. She was trapped. Pinned to the floor under his immensely heavy body. His overwhelming weight squeezed the air from her lungs.

"Tell me where it is!" He growled his own face inches from hers.

She couldn't see around him, she couldn't move and she couldn't breath. A forced whimper of pain escaped as he adjusted his weight to reached for something. Snatching up what he wanted his full pressure returned on top of her. That was when she heard the click and felt the cold metal near her head. She wanted to knee him, punch him, head butt him and break his nose, kick, do anything to create space so she could get to the weapon that was digging painfully into her back. The inability to move out from the crushing mass on top of her forced her to realize that at that moment she was completely at his mercy.

He pressed her tighter into the floor and his hot breath washed over her face as he continued his demand. "Last chance bitch. Tell. Me. Where. It. Is."

* * *

_Hmmmmm could this be Frank? I'm thinking..._

_That I should thank you for reading because it means a lot to me, as do your reviews!_

_So don't forget! _


	6. Chapter 6

_First I will start off by apologizing for my lack of posting! I wish I had some grand excuse but sadly I don't.!_

_Happy reading!_

* * *

Emily's breath caught in her throat, and she remained motionless in order to assess the entirety of the situation. She felt fresh drops of sweat bead on her brow and she fought closing her eyes from the salty sting as they rolled past. Instead she focused on the dark empty orbs above her. She was acutely aware of every movement he made and felt the hard barrier between them. She realized why her shot had done little harm; he was wearing a ballistic vest.

She couldn't fight the small whimper of pain that was forced out as he adjusted his weight forward. In her peripheral she caught a glimpse of her gun that he firmly gripped inches from her head. Her heart seized for a beat as she anticipated the pull of the trigger. She wondered if this invader's cruel glare would be the last image she saw. Her thoughts were fleeting as the crushing weight was released from her. All she saw was a blur of Derek flying over the top and quickly merging into mangled and intertwined bodies that fought for dominance. As Emily rolled to her side to get up the grunts and flesh colliding exploded in front of her.

In her obscured vision she saw their bodies rise and just as suddenly their momentum threw them back down behind the over turned mattress. Their heavy bodies crashed into the wall and the sound caused Emily to jump. Her heart began to pound harder in her ears. She became panicked that she could no longer see what was happening. All she was able to make out were the swearing and straining of the men wresting. Remembering the gun pressed into her back she reached behind her and yanked it from her waistband.

Emily pushed herself to her knees and then rose to her feet. She maneuvered carefully towards the flailing bodies. As they came into view she saw Derek was now motionless beneath the muscular man. He had stopped his fight once the man had the weapon clearly displayed and trained on him. Emily took a chance to gain some control of the situation and called out for him to drop the gun. His head tilted slightly but didn't budge and blatantly ignored the demand. Emily realized that words meant nothing; he was on a suicide mission. It was either they or he and if she didn't act Derek was dead. This time when she pulled the trigger she was more specific in her target and aimed for a gap in the front and back panel of the vest. As the blast filled the room blood bloomed on the side of his shirt. With a look of shock he turned to Emily but quickly fell away collapsing to the ground.

Morgan squirmed his way out and retrieved the gun from the unmoving man before he instinctively checked his pulse. Not finding one Derek then pushed his weight against the bed frame. Relief escaped him in a heavy breath. Emily hastily stepped over the piles of debris that covered her carpet to get to Derek.

"Are you okay?" She asked looking him over. His face had taken a beating. His lip was split and bleeding, as was the gash across his forehead and temple. She cringed at the thought of the fists that came in contact with his face. Guilt began to well up inside her.

"Yeah," He answered looking from the man and back to Emily. "You?"

She nodded. "Was he alone?" She asked looking to curtain fluttering in the breeze from the open window.

"Looks like it the rest of the apartment was clear. But it looks like he was lying in wait."

"What do you mean?"

"He could have escaped." He said nodding to the window. When he looked back his eyes were filled with concern.

She refused to acknowledge the blatant question he was silently asking. Sirens screaming in the distance took both of their attention before he could bring voice to them.

"Sounds like someone called it in." Derek said before she could.

"With all the noise I don't see how someone didn't." Emily said dryly and stepped back almost tripping on a dresser drawer that seemed to appear underfoot. She recovered quickly and gestured to Derek halting him from making a move to help her.

"Maybe you call off the dogs and get Hotch here," she suggested, "while I go get something to clean you up."

"I'm fine, seriously." Morgan insisted as he fished his phone out. Before he dialed he looked back at her once again in a silent battle on how to get answers to questions he knew she would not give.

"Still." She insisted and twisted away before he could protest again.

She cautiously pushed the bathroom door open and after investigating the small room she moved to the spot she kept her first aid supplies. She located a box of BandAids and Neosporin. She grabbed them and shut the drawer. When she looked up Morgan was in the doorway filling up the space in her mirror. She looked to his reflection and once again felt the guilt for his bruising face but more for his brush with death.

She spun around before he could see and act on it and pointed to the toilet. "Sit."

"Prenitss, really." He tried again.

"Please indulge me." She asked almost begging.

He hesitantly lowered himself onto the closed lid, his eyes never leaving her as he did.

As she began to clean the gash near his temple his hand came up and stopped her. Somewhat startled she jerked back and felt her breath catch. When she looked into his eyes she saw that they were dark and serious. This time she didn't turn away, she would let him ask.

"Do you know who he is?"

Emily shook her head and mouthed a silent no.

"What was he looking for?"

"I don't-" she started and stopped abruptly not wanting to lie, but still not say anything. She dropped her arm in defeat and straightened.

"Emily, this has gotten way too far out of control. You need to tell me." The seriousness in his tone was clear.

"Derek I can't," she started and drew in a shaky breath, "yet."

"Emily, we could have been killed, I think I deserve a little more."

"You're right." She acknowledged dropping her head before she continued as honestly as she could. "I don't know for sure, but it could be a flash drive that Sheila had stuck into my pocket."

"Was that what you gave Garcia?"

"Yes."

Derek rose and as the next question formed the announcement of the arriving officers abruptly ended the conversation. Derek's face became tight with his frustration but backed out of the small room to meet them and get them up to speed with what happened.

Emily followed him out of the bathroom but stopped in the doorway and leaned warily against the frame. She felt like the string of control had been forcefully pulled and everything was unraveling at a frenzied pace. It was no longer just about her and solving what happened with Sheila. Derek was right, she couldn't keep everything she knew or wanted to know so tight to her chest. The ones she cared about had been pulled into the deadly situation. She just wished she knew how to ask for the help she needed without putting them in any more danger. By the looks of her apartment and determination of the intruder she was more than certain that there was something seriously incriminating on the flash drive. Someone was determined to keep out of the hands of the FBI, and willing to kill to keep it that way.

She shook off the dread and glanced quickly around the almost unrecognizable room. Her closet door was barely hanging on by a screw. Her clothes and their hangers hastily tossed out. Her mattress flipped off the bed and ripped open. Its blankets and pillows gutted and disregarded in a heap in the corner. Every drawer of every dresser and side table were either broken or overturned and its contents scattered about. The frantic frustration the man had was painted clearly throughout her apartment. She wouldn't doubt he was searching for someone else and wondered what his consequences were if he came up empty handed. Sheila was dealing with a large faction of shady people, and she could only assume he was one of them. He obviously had no qualms about committing murder to achieve his quest. She wanted to know now more than ever what was on the drive.

The large group of people entering her personal space interrupted her thoughts. With the sudden crowd she began to feel more exposed. Her apartment was one place that she had always been able to keep as just hers. That privacy she held dear was now an open book, flipped open without her permission. One for the crime scene techs to comb over, and for the detective to scrutinize. The worse part, however, was that Hotch and Morgan were now able to step over that line and she had no way to stop it. She felt herself twist in the turmoil as the magnitude of the situation began to reveal itself.

Aaron immediately picked up on her discomfort and moved towards her. "You okay?"

She looked from the Detective jotting notes and then blinked the stars away from the sudden camera that flash in front of her.

"Yeah." She whispered. Knowing she couldn't hide the truth in her eyes she turned her attention down to her scuffed boots and kicked at a crumpled shirt that was beneath them.

Hotch stepped closer forcing her to look to him. "I need to know everything."

Emily wrapped her arms around her waist and drew in her bottom lip as she contemplated on how to begin. Agent Gordon's sudden announcement silenced the room and gave her a slight reprieve. She had not seen him come in, but he made himself clearly present.

"That's Billy Franco." Gordon said as he threw his shoulders back and waved a hand in the direction of the man on the floor.

"As in Frank?" Derek asked looking curiously to Emily then back to Agent Gordon.

"Yeah, but it's odd."

"What does that mean?" Emily asked pushing off the frame of the door.

"Well for one, he wasn't really involved with the family. So this adds a bit of a twist." He said rubbing his chin.

"What do you mean _wasn't really_?" Emily asked half shouting now taking steps towards the Agent.

Gordon leaned back shocked at her accusatory tone. "He was a petty thief that did small jobs but nothing to this extent or anything connected directly to the Carbone family."

"You're not making any sense." Emily said widening her stance before she threw her arms across her chest. She then pointed to the lifeless man in the middle of her room, "This is Frank, the man you blew off even after I said Sheila named him."

"I said he was inconsequential but-"

Emily cut him off and didn't stop the volume of her voice to rise with her anger. "Inconsequential? Seriously?!"

"He was a thief but no way mafia." Gordon replied attempting to keep his own composure, but his tone betraying his efforts.

Emily's anger was boiling over and she could feel herself shaking in it. "Well, he just stepped up to a new level."

Aaron touched Emily's arm to try and calm her. She jerked away but held her words. He felt a need to bring the energy in the room back down to a calmer level, even though he felt that Gordon's lack of divulging information almost got two of his agents, and more importantly his friends killed. He wasn't about to let that be forgotten but kept the focus to the task at hand.

"Did Sheila have interactions with Franco?"

Agent Gordon slowly took his eyes away from Emily as he answered Hotch. "A few, very small ones that I know of. It was mostly him trying to get jobs from her, and for her to put in a good word to Carbone. He just didn't have the chops for the business."

"If he was trying to make himself seen what would keep him from doing a job like this for Carbone?" Derek asked jumping in.

Agent Gordon shrugged. "I guess nothing, if the reward is right. Did he even find what it was he was looking for?" He asked glancing around the upturned room.

Emily squinted her eyes at him, the fury still boiling at the man. "I doubt it."

"How do you know?" Detective Long called out before moving away from the body.

"When he had a gun to my head he demanded I tell him where_ it_ was." She answered simply.

Gordon perked up at her statement. "Where what was? Do you know something?"

"I don't." Emily lied and kept her eyes locked with Gordon even though she could feel Derek's stare boring into her.

"Well, Sheila's death sure has created a mess." Detective Long huffed.

"You're making it sound like this is her fault." Emily bit out. She knew she was about to burst, and took all she had to keep composure.

"I didn't say that." Long shot back, "I'm just saying that there is something more going on. I think the next move is to bring Carbone in for some questioning."

"He's not going to admit to anything," Emily threw out, "and I highly doubt anything can be traced back to him."

"Probably not, but then again he may give us something." Long shrugged. "It's all I got at the moment."

"We don't even know if he is the one after whatever Franco thought Sheila had." Derek stated.

"Where did she keep the information she acquired while UC?" Hotch asked looking to Gordon.

"I don't know where she kept the physical information, but we exchanged flash drives when we'd meet so it could be kept quick and discrete."

Hotch straightened and narrowed his eyes to Gordon his own suspicion to the man rising. "And as far as you knew there was no indication that she was compromised?"

"None."

Hotch shook his head and directed himself to Detective Long, "I think questioning Carbone is a good idea, but don't mention Sheila by name. Still keep her as Megan. If it's alright with you I want to send two of my agents over and have them observe."

Long bit his cheek as if contemplating arguing Bureau involvement but then nodded and turned to make the necessary phone calls.

Hotch then lightly touched Emily's arm to pull her to the side.

When she was finally looking at him he spoke sternly but as gently as he could. "You need to calm down."

"Hotch-" She started but knew the battle at the moment was futile. He was right, but still couldn't wrap her head around the fact that Gordon blew off Frank as a threat. Sheila had given him up, her last words even. Emily couldn't imagine putting her life in the hands of a man that disregarded the obvious, and yet her friend unknowingly did. It made her stomach turn at the thought.

Hotch gestured for her to join him in the hall and she followed knowing what was coming. "Tell me what he was looking for."

Emily glanced back to Gordon and content he was not paying attention to their conversation divulged the information she had on the flash drive.

Hotch listened to her but his head dipped in disappointment that she still could not trust the team. "This kind of thing can't be kept secret."

"I understand that, but I felt I owed it to her to do it right."

"And you felt that we would somehow not be on your side. You have to give us some credit, Emily. You keeping it hidden not only risked your life, but that of your partner's."

Emily could only nod, Hotch had made his point. Emily knew he was right, and there was nothing she could say. She just didn't know any other way to handle it.

His phone buzzing interrupted their conversation.

He answered but quickly cut the speaker off. "I know about the drive, Garcia, just tell me." He then listened intently and nodded in intervals. Emily tried to hear what she was saying on the other end, but got nothing,

"But what?" Hotch asked into the phone. His face remained unreadable. Emily began to feel even more impatient for the conversation to end and for Hotch to relay the information he was receiving.

As he brought the phone from his ear Emily didn't hesitate, "well?"

Aaron shook his head, his face now showing disappointment. "There's nothing on the drive that the Bureau doesn't already have on file."

Emily's brow rose with her confusion. "That doesn't make any sense."

Derek chimed in suddenly beside them, "Carbone may have known about the drive, but not know what information was on it or what Sheila had already given. He could have been simply covering his ass."

Hotch nodded to Derek in agreement then looked back to Emily. "Garcia did say there was one file that was corrupted that she is still working on."

Emily's stomach turned again.

"I'm going to get some air." She whispered in defeat and walked between the two men that parted for her to take leave.

She needed the solitude to think. She only heard Hotch's voice as he informed Gordon and Long of the flash drive. She felt Gordon's eyes following her but she refused to acknowledge him. She knew he would have words with her, but she had little concern for him. He had crossed a line that she would not soon forget. He proved to her that he really couldn't be trusted. He had clearly failed Sheila, and now he was too busy cleaning up his own mess then figuring out what really happened to her friend. The truth was there and she was determined to uncover it. The first place she was going to look was into Agent Benjamin Gordon's real agenda.

* * *

_Not my typical ending to a chapter I know, but I can guarentee the excitement will ramp up again shortly. Please feel free to drop me a little note in the review box to tell me what you think!_

_I always appreciate the feedback! Thank you for reading!_


	7. Chapter 7

_Thank you all for your continual support and reading. I know this story is not my normal, grab you by the throat story, but I ensure it will get bumpy soon. This chapter is a bit dialogue heavy but is necessary._

_Well enough of my ramblings…._

_Happy reading!_

* * *

"_It's all just bullshit," Sheila cussed and took a long pull from her beer. She set it down with a thud and looked away from her friend who was more than shocked at the sudden outburst. Emily followed suit but gently set her own drink down. _

"_It went that well huh?" She asked with an edge of sarcasm._

_Sheila turned her eyes downward and followed the name etched in the wooden table with her finger. She didn't immediately answer, and her mood took Emily by surprise. They had not seen each other for more than a few hours all week, which was typical during midterms, but they usually celebrated the release of the pressure with a drink at their favorite off campus pub. The difference this time was an unannounced visit of her brother, Eric._

"_You can talk to me," Emily encouraged._

"_I know Tess, it's just," she paused in an unnatural and uncomfortable silence. "Eric is really messed up and… I feel helpless to help him. Now every time the phone rings I think it's going to be someone telling me he's dead or in prison."_

"_You've done everything for him-" Emily tried._

_Sheila threw her hand up to cut her off. "No, I haven't."_

"_You're being too hard on yourself." Emily stated shaking her head. She had seen time and time again that she would drop everything to give him whatever he needed. Emily was more concerned with Sheila's state of mind then her brother's needs, but she supported her friend and would be there for whatever it was she needed. _

_Sheila shook her head and spun the bottle with the lightest touch of her fingers. She concentrated on the round bottom as it rolled over the table letting the vibration it made be the only sound between the two women. Finally blowing out a breath she gave in and spoke up. "Do you remember when I told you my parents died when I was fifteen?"_

_Emily nodded, "Yeah in a car-"_

"_No, " Sheila blurted out stopping Emily. She then drew in a shaky breath for control. "They were murdered."_

_Emily fought her jaw from dropping and stared in awe at her friend. They were words she had not expected to be released. She pushed her glass out of the way and gave her full attention to the woman in front of her._

_Sheila shifted uncomfortably on the stool and looked to see if anyone had heard her, but the bar had only a sparse sprinkling of patrons. A slight relief rushed across her face that no one other than Emily had heard her admission. _

_Emily continued to sit patiently for her to proceed and with a thick swallow she did, "I had been out to the movies with my friend. Eric had wanted to go. I didn't tell my parents but we were supposed to meet some guys. I just thought he'd put a crimp in my style, and I put up a big fuss about him coming." _

_She suddenly paused again and looked at her beer before taking another swallow of the hoppy beverage. She set the now empty bottle down and stared at it in disappointment that it no longer gave her an excuse to break up her divulgence of her childhood nightmare. _

_She cleared her throat instead. "My parents were tired of my antics and not wanting to deal with it they just made him stay home."_

_She finally looked up to Emily, a distant pain danced in her eyes as she remembered the horrific night. "I was surprised that all of the lights were still on when I came home. I never thought-" She stopped suddenly choking on her words and emotions the memory was creating._

_Emily immediately stretched her hand across the round table and took Sheila's into hers giving a encouraging squeeze. "It's okay, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."_

_Sheila smiled slightly and returned the pressure to Emily's hand. "No, I haven't told anyone since I gave my statement to the police that night. Even the therapists got a glanced over version."_

"_Okay," Emily encouraged._

_With a subtle nod she proceeded. "When I walked into the kitchen I…. I thought it was a joke." She half laughed, "it would have made more sense if it was closer to Halloween, but it was in the middle of summer."_

_The memory suddenly became too much and the tears she was holding back welled up in her eyes. She tried to blink them away but they successfully escaped and rolled down her flushed cheeks. Emily tightened her supportive hold._

_With it Sheila found the strength to continue. "I never thought a person held that much blood, it was like he was swimming in it. I wasn't even sure that is was my dad, I couldn't recognize him."_

_The environment of the bar dissolved into a blur and Emily refused to move her eyes from Sheila's and rubbed her thumb in small reassuring circles over her friend's hand. _

_Sheila didn't fight the contact and drew in a few calming breaths. "I panicked not knowing where Eric or my mother was. I remember slipping and falling as I crossed the kitchen to get to the family room. There was just….so much blood, everywhere._

"_My mother looked exactly like my father. Eric was crouched in the corner of the room completely covered in blood. The way he looked I thought for a split second that he had done it."_

"_Why?" Emily asked confused at the last statement._

"_Not sure." She answered dismissively._

"_So, what happened?" Emily asked trying to keep her talking._

_Sheila shrugged, "I don't know, I guess there was no salvageable evidence and Eric was so traumatized that he was no help as a witness. It went cold and that was the end of it."_

_Emily looked at her in confusion, "that was it?"_

"_Yup." Sheila said with a breath and pulled her hand back re-gripping her empty beer. She then smiled over to Emily looking troubled, sad and torn. Before Emily could say a word she looked away indicating the conversation was over._

_Emily felt a weight in the pit of her stomach. She wasn't sure what to do or say. Her friend was hurting and scarred by the events, but she knew her well enough to know that when she was done talking the conversation was truly over. She resigned to be there for her when Sheila was ready to ask for more__._

* * *

Garcia waited impatiently on the other side of the steel doors. She had begun to pace small circles until they finally parted. She couldn't cover the shock that the two agents emerging caused her. Derek brows remained furrowed and on the bandage over his eye a small stain of blood had soaked through. His lip puckered out from the swelling caused by the split, and when he turned his head the light caught the bruising along his jawline.

Emily physically looked the same as she had earlier, but appeared even more exhausted and the lines of worry etched deeper into her face.

The two stopped in front of the Analyst who could not hold in her words. "This is not a competition to see who can get the most battered."

"Not funny Garcia," Emily said with little amusement.

Penelope's hands flew to her hips and she glared at the brunette. "And I'm not laughing! I almost lost both of you less than a forty-eight hour period. I have the right to be upset."

"Did you get into the rest of the files?" Derek asked to get the focus back on task.

She slowly shook her head and handed over the thin file she had. "No, I'm sorry, but the second I do you will the first to know."

Emily snatched up the folder from Derek and forced a smile to the analyst before she headed through the glass doors and to her desk. Derek gave Garcia a light squeeze on her shoulder before following Emily into the Bullpen.

Emily pulled her chair out sat down with a sigh. She felt bad for being rude to Garcia but she was having enough of an emotional response to the current events. It was all she could do to keep them under wraps. She heard Derek approach and spun away not wanting him to see her vulnerable.

"Don't be so hard on Garcia, you know she wears her emotions on her sleeve."

"Give me some credit Morgan," Emily huffed tilting her head up to him, and then turned away opening the file.

He remained quiet but moved around and pulled Spencer's unoccupied chair. He slowly sat down and watched the brunette carefully. He knew she could feel him watching but she ignored his watchful eye and continued to read the papers in her hand.

After a good five minutes she let out a sigh and tossed the folder onto the desk. It landed with a light thud. She leaned back and rubbed her eyes then winced at the pain it caused on her still tender injury.

"What?" Derek asked.

"I'm missing something." She said and her chair snapped as it came forward with her weight.

"Maybe not." Derek shrugged. "There may not anything else to see."

"I don't believe that," she said shaking her head, "there's something else going on."

"Maybe Reid and Rossi got something from the Carbone interview."

She was ready to respond when Hotch drifted by and lightly touched her desk. "My office please."

She nodded up to him and pushed back to stand. She glanced quickly to Derek before maneuvering around the desk and stepping to catch up to Aaron.

He was waiting patiently for her leaning against his desk arms across his chest, a stern look on his face. It softened slightly when she full entered and curiously looked to him.

"How are you doing?" He started.

"Confused."

"About?"

"None of it makes sense to me. The flash drive had nothing. Carbone may or may not be involved. Franco is Frank, a nobody thief turned attempted murderer."

Hotch shook his head slowly, "A murderer," he corrected.

"What?"

Aaron pushed off the desk and let his arms fall to his side. "A partial on your gun came back a match for Franco. They found your purse in his car four blocks from your apartment."

"Okay, so now what?" Emily asked somewhat defeated.

"Rossi just called and he and Reid are on their way back from the Carbone interview."

"Yeah?" She asked sounding a little more hopeful. "What did they say?"

"Carbone gave up Franco and the other man in the alley, Mariano. He said that they would do almost anything to make a name for themselves. He acted like he was upset and shocked when he heard about Meg-Sheila's murder."

"And they believed him?" She asked in shock. "Did he know about the drive?"

"He never mentioned it or any knowledge that he knew Sheila was FBI."

Emily's confusion grew and more questions surfaced. "What would those two get out of the drive? There was no mention of them anywhere on it."

"Maybe they saw a chance to use it as leverage to get the upper-hand and take down Carbone."

"How would they have known about it unless Sheila was compromised? Why would Franco kill Mariano?"

"Greed maybe." Hotch answered straightening at her rapid-fire questions. "If there was money involved for the drive, he saw an opportunity to double his earnings."

"So they were working for someone." Emily said with conviction.

Hotch shrugged again. "I don't know, maybe, there is no direct indication of that and right now and Detective Long is working to wrap up the investigation."

Emily sighed in frustration. "Seriously? Just like that!? There has to be more. Someone else. We need to look at the last people Sheila was in contact with days if not a week before her murder."

"Emily, stop."

Emily stepped back in shock to his words. "Do you believe that it's that simple? That Franco and Mariano came across the knowledge of the flash drive on their own and were after it for themselves?"

"It doesn't matter what I believe. Detective Long has not officially invited us in and there is nothing we can do."

Working to hide her overflowing irritation she looked down to the floor. Her head still swirled with questions and theories, but she knew she was not going to get any answers in that office. She looked back up to Hotch and could see he didn't like her persistence. She knew he cared, but he was right that there was nothing he could do.

She chose to move on. "So, what do Reid and Rossi think?"

"Reid said Carbone was cool and collected playing the part well, but he wasn't convinced. Rossi agrees, but they have no solid evidence of his involvement."

"Of course." Emily said lowering her head.

"Emily, why don't you take a few days to regroup?"

Emily closed her eyes and exhaled in irritation at the suggestion. "Regroup, right."

Aaron's head tilted at her tone, but he was not surprised by it. He continued to play his necessary role, even though he wanted to do more for her. "It's out of our hands. Until Garcia gets into that other file there is nothing else to do, and that's even if she can."

Emily shook he head in disbelief. Everyone was so quick to just let it all go. The pieces may have fit together conveniently for everyone else but not for her.

"You won't be out of the loop if something new comes up." He promised.

Knowing she could not argue with him she swallowed the orders and turned quickly to make her leave. As she descended the stairs Derek stood up to greet her, and waited for her to divulge what she had learned. She stopped in front of him and promptly told him everything she had learned.

There was a brief silence as Morgan digested the information, but suddenly perked up at an approaching person. Emily turned around to see who it was and surprised to see Agent Gordon approaching. Emily straightened as he neared, unsure what was coming.

"Agent Gordon," she acknowledged.

"Agent Prentiss," he said and looked briefly to Morgan who had adjusted his position in a protective stance next to Emily and then nodded to the fellow agent. Gordon returned the gesture and then extended his hand and offered a file to Emily.

Confused Emily hesitated at first and looked to the man for an answer.

Seeing her hesitation he waved the file slightly at her. "It's everything there is on the Winters' murder."

"Sheila's parents?"

"Yeah."

Slowly she reached over and took the manila file folder.

"Same team, remember?" He said raising a brow.

"Right." Emily whispered and studied the man in front of her. He just kept surprising her and she wasn't sure how to take it.

He then twisted his body and motioned behind them. "I'm heading over to give the death notification to Sheila's brother."

"Eric?"

"Yeah, you know him?"

"I did," Emily replied softly, "a long time ago."

"Did you want to come along?"

"Um, I'm not sure." Emily shifted her weight in contemplation. Uneasy memories she had buried unexpectedly came to the surface. "The last time we saw each other wasn't the best encounter."

"It's completely up to you."

Emily drew in a breath and reluctantly accepted. Eric had a right to know, whatever state of mind he was in, or how their relationship had ended up. She suddenly felt it was her responsibility to be the one to do it. Sheila would have wanted it that way. If she couldn't do anything about Carbone and the drive she would do the next best thing. Plus the ride would give her an opportunity to get more insight on Gordon.

Derek followed closely next to her as she moved to the elevator.

"Prentiss?" He finally spoke up before she could enter.

Emily paused and gestured to Agent Gordon. "I'll meet you in the lobby."

The older agent nodded and pressed the button for the doors to close.

"What are you doing?" Derek demanded. He didn't like how she was acting, she had quickly reverted back to being secretive. The last few days had left him more than rattled, and he had no desire for her to be out of his sights.

"Following up on something." She said without looking to him. She knew he probably deserved some explanation, but at the moment it would take too long. She promised herself she would tell him more when she got back.

She could feel his unease and watched him look at the closed elevator and back to her. "Alone? I don't know if you should."

"I'm not going alone. I'm going with Gordon." Emily stated pressing the button harder, her agitation to his overprotectiveness showing.

"I don't like it Emily. At least let me come."

"Okay." Emily shrugged and took a large step away from him as the doors opened.

He was about to follow when JJ tapping him on the shoulder stopped him. He turned to see the blonde standing with a stack of files in her arms. "Is it urgent or-"

She quickly cut him off, "of course it is."

"What ones aren't?" He hissed under his breath.

JJ then looked around Derek to Emily, "Where are you going, Emily?"

Emily thought about telling her, but didn't want to have to go into it with anyone else. "Ordered to take a few days, but if I'm needed call."

JJ smiled softly at her. "Okay, but you take care of that head, and if you need anything don't hesitate to call." She spun to leave then stopped as if remembering something. "My offer still stands to stay with me. You don't need go to a hotel when you have a real bed to sleep in."

Emily smiled back. "Thanks JayJe," she said with sincerity, "I had actually forgotten my apartment is a crime scene."

"Then there's you answer." JJ winked before nudging Derek and hurrying away.

Emily watched the blonde leave and her smile faded when she looked back to Derek who had not budged from his spot or taken his eyes off of her. She sighed and shook her head at his troubled look. "Go already. I'll be fine. I will call you when I'm done, okay?"

"I guess." He said unconvinced.

Emily gave him a thin smile and pressed the button keeping her eyes on the illuminated button for the lobby. She could feel Morgan hesitating but when she finally looked back he had turned around to walk away.

She felt relief and closed her eyes briefly. Before the doors completely shut a hand stopped them causing Emily to jump. As they reopened they revealed Morgan looking more concerned than before.

"I don't think you should go." He firmly stated.

"Morgan stop! Seriously!" Her voice raised sharply with her frustration. "You have a case. You need to put your focus on that."

"I still don't think it's safe for you. I'm not saying don't look into her parents murder, but do it from here."

"It's not that simple."

"Why do you need to go?" He asked crossing his arms.

He wanted too many answers she was not ready to give. She understood his concerns but she had to do this. She was sure all Derek saw was that she needed a distraction from the lack of progress on the flash drive. It was true to a point but solving her parents murder clearly was important to Sheila so it was now important to her. Eric played a key part in the murders. He was the only witness. She didn't plan on Eric being at all happy to see her, but hoped the bad blood or his unknown mental stability would not hinder what was necessary.

"I can't explain right now, I just do." She said and reached out peeling his hand off the door so it could close. "Now you should go before Hotch gets on your ass."

Derek opened his mouth to speak but doors sealed before any words escaped. He stood motionless for a moment the frustration building up inside.

"Dammit Prentiss." He blurted out using his fleeting will power to keep him from punching the reflective doors in front of him.

* * *

___Next chapter will reveal the not so good encounter with Eric and Emily. So stay tuned!_

___Thank you for reading! Whether you like it or you're falling asleep I appreciate any feedback!_


	8. Chapter 8

_Thank you for reading, and the support! I hope you enjoy!_

_Happy reading!_

* * *

_T__he rapid and erratic knocking on the door caused Emily to approach with extreme caution. When she peered through the peephole she was surprised to see Eric on the other side. It had been a little over a month since Sheila had spoken to him or even about him. Emily debated on opening the door, but after a brief mental battle she released the bolt and turned the knob to greet Sheila's brother._

"_Eric?" Holding the door only slightly ajar Emily looked the man over. _

_He shifted his weight anxiously and then his head jerked back to look down the hall. When he returned his eyes to Emily, she could see they were wide and wild. Her first thought was that he was experiencing a bad trip and she proceeded with more caution._

"_Sheila here?" He asked and began to press the door inward but Emily stopped it with her weight. Anger and confusion washed across his face, but Emily held strong. _

"_Sheila's not. She has class until seven."_

_Eric stepped back and began to pick at his nails and continue to look around. His agitation grew with every second._

"_You gotta help me. They're after me."_

"_Whose after you?" Emily asked taking a glance in the direction he kept turning to._

"_Those guys." He said pointing behind him. "They held a knife to my throat and stole my money. I can't go back to the motel; they've got the room under surveillance. They'll kill me if they see me."_

_Emily had met Eric many times, and she had never seen him this paranoid or unstable. He was an experienced user who knew how much was too much and how little was too little. Sheila had told her of his struggles, and how she had put it on herself to help him. Emily felt a loss at what to do, but mostly because she didn't know what she could do._

"_How can I help, Eric? Do you want me to call the police?"_

"_No!" He shouted then calmed himself quickly. "Just let me chill til Sheila gets home, she'll know what to do."_

_Emily looked him over again. His gaunt appearance and red rimmed eyes made it clear that he had not been sleeping or eating. His physical and mental state began to worry her. Sheila was family and that made Eric family. It was less than an hour until Sheila would be home, and she wouldn't feel right turning him away. Emily stepped back to allow him access to enter._

_Eric slid through the doorway and quickly past Emily. _

"_I just made some dinner, are you hungry?" She asked after him._

_He looked around and then observed Emily as she shut the door. _

"_Lock it up tight, okay?" He directed and watched her closely as she did._

_She smiled slightly and nodded towards him acknowledging the request. She wasn't sure how the time until Sheila got home was going to go, but she felt if she could make him feel safe he'd stay calm. She watched him carefully walk through the small apartment examining every corner as if someone would jump from the shadows at any moment._

_Emily then reached into the cupboard and pulled a dish down cautious not to make any sudden noises or movements. "Can I make you a plate of food?"_

_Eric ran a shaky hand through his unkempt hair and looked to the stove suspiciously. He moved in closer and began biting his thumb anxiously, then turned his untrusting eyes to Emily. "What is it?"_

"_Nothing fancy, just some pasta."_

"_Smells good." He said glancing back to the pot on the stove._

"_So, is that a yes?"_

"_Hmm," was all he answered and pulled a chair out from the table. He then moved it so that he had his back facing the wall._

_She took his subtle verbal response and taking a spot at the table as a yes. She piled some of the pasta on the plate and in the remaining space set a bit of salad, then topped it with a few slices of garlic bread. She walked over and slowly set the meal in front of him. He kept his eyes on her hand as the food slid closer and once she retracted her arm he greedily dug in. Emily stepped back to give him room to eat and returned to the kitchen to prepare her own plate. Before she could load it a distant ringing caught her attention._

_She gently set the dish down and hurried into her room to answer the phone. As she stepped passed Emily took a quick glance to Eric, but he seemed unaware of her actions. _

_The phone call reminded her that she was suppose to meet with a classmate and give her some notes. Not wanting to leave Eric alone she made the conversation short and to the point. After rearranging the plans she hung up and moved to rejoin her guest. As she opened the door the sudden appearance of Eric towering in the doorway startled her. She could no longer see the fear that he had held earlier in his dark eyes. They now exuded pure anger._

_Emily couldn't react before he pounced. He seized her by the arms and used his forward momentum to send her flying backwards. She stumbled with the force and before she gained her ground he had her in his grip again pushing her deeper into the room. They only halted when her back slammed into the wall._

"_Who're you talking to?" He shouted inches from her face._

"_What?" Emily asked in fear and confusion. _

_He pulled her towards him then in a violent shake slung her back. The action caused her head snapped backwards and pound into the wall. She tried to blink the stars away and focus on the crazed man holding her hostage._

"_A friend." She forced out fighting her sudden faintness._

"_Who?" He demanded tightening his grip._

_She felt helpless pinned between the infuriated man and the wall. Her arms screamed in pain from the pressure he created. All the endless possibilities of how the events could play out swarmed her head. She fought her panic and forced herself to remain calm._

"_You don't know her. She's just a classmate."_

_He eyed her squinting hard as if he would see something or someone else._

_Disregarding her statement he persisted. "It was them wasn't it? You told them where I was and now they are going to come here!"_

"_No! What are you talking about?"_

_He released one of her arms and she didn't expect the strong hand that came across her cheek. "Stop lying!"_

_Her head jerked from the slap and her face stung in effect. Her immediate reaction was shock, but then the fight began to boil inside her. Her panic and fear turned to anger. Though she was bound and pressed tightly between the beast and the wall, she felt the adrenaline begin to flow in a controlled way._

"_I'm not!" She fired back. _

_When his hand came up again she was ready and blocked the blow then sent her freed hand directly into his breastbone. As he stumbled back she kneed him and he groaned in the sudden pain. Completely released from the hold she side stepped his hunched form and headed towards her escape. She pulled the door closed as she slipped through in hopes to create another obstacle for him. It was only a temporary delay; he was there a beat behind her and yanked back on the barrier. The jerking motion stopped her briefly but she released her grip and continued to put distance between them. As she moved she visualized how she would unlock the door and open it before he got to her. She could feel him right on her and she realized she would have to physically fight him off. As her hand reached out for the top lock she felt his arm wrapped around her waist. He dug his heels in and spun her to the ground._

_Though hitting hard she immediately flipped over to face Eric. All she could do was crawl backwards as he continued his pursuit. She kicked at him as he gripped her ankle and pulled her towards him. Once again he was over her, his weight and strength holding her in place. _

"_If you weren't lying you wouldn't be trying to get away."_

"_You attacked me, Eric, what do you expect me to do?" She spat back up to him and squirmed under him looking for the next chance to illicit pain._

"_ERIC!" A strong voice shouted from behind them._

_His name being called out caught his attention, but it was the solid object knocking his head to the side that stopped him. He grunted in pain and fell to the side. As Eric left her view the silhouette of Sheila stood over them. She didn't stop and her leg came up and kicked Eric over and completely off of Emily. _

_Emily then scrambled to her feet not taking her eyes off of the unconscious man._

"_Emily, are you okay?" Sheila asked stepping towards the brunette. She looked her over in concern, her hands out unsure what to do._

"_Yeah," she answered breathlessly, not thinking about her swelling cheek. _

"_What the hell?" Sheila asked looking away._

"_I thought I was helping-" Emily began, feeling she had to excuse his behavior, or what her role in him being there was, but stopped knowing it didn't matter._

"_I'm so sorry," Sheila whispered almost inaudibly. Sadness and intense regret flooding her eyes. Then as if something hit her she straightened and turned._

"_He'll wake up soon." Sheila announced somberly before she crouched next to her brother. "I'll watch him, but you shouldn't be in the room. It will be better that he only sees me."_

"_Okay," Emily said warily. She backed out still shocked at what had just happened._

"_Call the police." Sheila called after her not looking away from the man beginning to stir._

"_But-" Emily started unsure that Sheila would want her brother arrested. Yet, he was not of his right mind, and clearly needed help._

_After the police had left Emily and Sheila remained in silence. Emily sat on the edge of the couch an ice pack pressed against her cheek. Sheila sat on the floor with her legs crossed staring at her. Emily had seen the shock and pain that filled Sheila's eyes as she listened to her recount what her brother had done. She countlessly apologized for him, cursed him under her breath, and punched a wall. She then tried to insist Emily go to the Emergency Room, and to that Emily quickly refused. _

"_It will be fine." Emily tried to break the uncomfortable air._

"_No it won't!" Sheila said jumping to her feet. "Damn it, he could have killed you!"_

"_But he didn't and now he will get help."_

_Sheila shook her head and began to pace in small circles. "He's needed help for a long time, the drugs only helped him try and cope with his own mind. He hasn't been right since our parents-." She then stopped abruptly._

_Emily turned to her friend and brought the ice down setting it on the cushion. "You can't blame yourself for his problems. You have done all you could for him."_

"_Have I? If I had just taken him to the movies and not been a selfish teenager." She said dipping her head in shame._

"_You were a kid, Sheila, you have to stop blaming yourself."_

_Sheila refused to listen and Emily knew there was nothing she could say that would lessen the guilt. Sheila had tried to visit Eric once in the state hospital but he refused to see her. It was at that moment that Sheila let go of her brother and chose to move on._

* * *

Emily slid into the passenger seat at the same time Gordon finished buckling himself in. He smiled softly at her as he turned the key then turned his attention to backing out of the parking spot.

Emily watched him briefly before flipping the file open and delving into the information in front of her.

Her concentration was broken by Gordon's inquisitive voice, "has your Analyst been able to get into that file yet?"

Emily kept her head down and shook her head no.

"Huh. I thought she was the best in the business."

Emily glanced up and saw he was looking at her, a crooked smile curling his lips.

She rolled her eyes away and back to the file. She couldn't help but feel slightly annoyed at the man. She responded letting the irritation show. "She is, and I'll get a call the minute she does."

He was silent again and she went back to studying the pages. As she read a theory hit her. Her head shot up and Gordon looked over surprised at her sudden movement.

He caught the look in her eye. "What?"

"She took the undercover job because she thought Carbone himself or the family could have been the reason her parents were killed."

"Yeah," Gordon shrugged. "She discovered her father's gambling debts and they circled around to the family."

Emily turned to him highly interested, "when did you realize her ulterior motives?"

Gordon didn't answer as he kept his attention on the road. He appeared to be gathering his thoughts. He looked at Emily quickly then back out the front window shield.

"About three weeks ago she gave me that file on accident. I didn't really question it. She was doing her job for our case, and what she did on the side was her business."

"Huh." Emily said absorbing the information.

"I did worry that it would get her in trouble with Carbone, asking more questions about past incidents. I voiced my concern, but she assured me she had it under control."

"Of course she did." Emily said shaking her head and looked back to the words in front of her.

Gordon continued. "She may have been onto something. By the time frame of the murder Vincent Carbone would have been pretty low on the ladder. He could have easily been that guy."

"Makes sense, I guess."

"But she never got proof that he or anyone else was there or that it was a mob hit."

"No." Emily agreed closing the file and finally looking out the window to see where they were.

She held her surprise as they turned down the street of the prominent neighborhood. She however could not hold back the gasp that escaped from the shock to the house that they approached. Her look was not lost on Gordon.

"Something wrong Agent Prentiss?"

She didn't answer at first as she took in the bi-level redbrick estate.

"Just not what I expected, I guess."

"And what did you expect?" He asked raising a curious brow.

"Not this." She said as she looked away from the pristine lawn and fountain that sat in the epicenter of the driveway turnabout.

"Really?"

"What had Sheila told you about Eric?" Emily asked suddenly curious to any information on his completely different lifestyle. One drastically different than the one she remembered him having.

"She didn't." Gordon responded with slight hurt in his voice. "I only recently found out that she had any family left. From what she told me I assumed that her brother had died."

Emily leaned back in a brief revelation. "This is more than a death notification isn't it?"

Gordon straightened in his seat uncomfortable with the question. He released his belt but turned back to the brunette. "Sheila was very private, but it wasn't just anyone she told about her parent's murder."

"What are you looking to accomplish here?"

He recoiled at her boldness. "Excuse me?"

"Why did you decide to be the one to notify her brother?"

"I just feel like I owe it to Sheila that's all. Maybe get some missing information."

"Missing information?"

"The murder," he answered pointing to the file. "And since he knew you, and you and Sheila were so close maybe he will open up."

"I told you back at the BAU our last encounter was not the most pleasant, why would he want to talk to me?"

"It's a chance I'm willing to take."

Emily stared at him trying to wrap her head around his motives. "You're asking for a lot, and I don't think it's a good idea. We're about to tell a man that the only family he had left is dead."

He blinked away from her and stared at the brick house. "I feel the window of opportunity is closing quickly to make any headway."

"But not right now," Emily persisted. "Let's be smart about this."

"Whatever, let's just go." He said with an edge of anger and pushed his way out of the car.

Emily watched the man stalk off towards the large oak doors.

Gordon's purpose confused her but she was more worried about Eric's response to what was about to happen. She hoped Gordon would heed her warning and keep the meeting about Sheila and comforting Eric, not questioning him.

Just as she pulled up next to Gordon the door began to open. The man that stood before them did not look like the strung out ghost of a person she had known. He stood tall with confidence, and Emily couldn't deny, he was handsome. His face was clean-shaven, and his once unruly hair was cut short but the top was left long enough to allow a few waves to remain. His blue eyes sparkled with life, and no longer wild with nervous suspicion. His healthy build was apparent through his slim fitting sky blue polo and straight-ironed kakis.

The two old acquaintances looked at each other both unsure how to greet one another.

Gordon's voice gave them their out. "Eric Winters?"

Without taking his eyes from Emily he answered. "Yes." Then without pausing a beat he spoke directly to Emily, "That's not the most complementary shiner you got there, Emily."

"It's good to see you too, Eric." Emily responded biting down on her sarcasm.

"I'm sorry, that was completely out of line. Where are my manners?" He said widening the door and stepping back to invite them inside. "Please come in."

Emily followed Gordon's lead examining every detail of Eric's lifestyle. The inside was just as beautiful as the exterior, if not more. A marble spiral staircase greeted them and it brought her eyes to the top of the vaulted ceiling then around to the large crystal chandelier hanging overhead. It was tastefully decorated, not overly lavish, but spoke of his wealth. Suddenly seeing the two men disappear down the hall from her she hurried to catch up, her boots clicking loudly on the granite floor.

Eric paused for her at the arched entryway that led to a sitting room. Emily smiled politely to him then peered in. An inviting brick fireplace was the smaller room's focal point. Two couches that looked as if they hardly had been used in years surrounded it. She noted that either he rarely had guests or did not spend time in the room. The surrounding walls were painted in warm earth tones, and the art décor was just as subtle as what she had seen in the rest of the house.

Eric eyed Emily as she passed and in a lower voice spoke. "It's good to see you. You really do look good, Emily."

She stopped and turned, hands clasped in front of her and she gave him a forced a smile. She suddenly felt more uncomfortable to be there when the news of Sheila was about to be revealed, and now at the idea that Eric saw this visit as some sort of reunion. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat and bit her bottom lip looking down briefly.

"You too," She answered cautiously. "This is nice." She said indicating the space they stood in.

"Yeah, getting clean was the best thing that ever happened." He chuckled slightly easing the tension. Then he became slightly more serious. "I should actually be thanking you, I should be dead."

"Please," Emily said and threw her hands out. Her voice was almost pleading, "don't thank me."

Agent Gordon cleared his throat and Emily's stomach dropped again being reminded of their purpose.

Eric looked past Emily to Gordon, "So, what can I do for you two?"

"I'm sorry Mr. Winters," Gordon took in a short breath, "Sheila's dead."

Emily stepped back in complete disbelief. She couldn't hold back the gasp that escaped and her mouth dropped slightly at the tactless announcement. Her eyes darted to Eric for his reaction, and not surprised as the color drained from his face and his welcoming eyes turned cold and distant. Gordon needed lessons from JJ or any decent human being on how to speak to a family member and deliver such devastating news. There was no empathy in his voice.

"No that can't be," Eric said, denial kicking in. "What do you mean, dead?"

Emily stepped in front of Eric creating a barrier between him and Gordon. "I'm so sorry Eric, she was-"

"Mugged," Gordon interrupted speaking louder over Emily.

Emily had had enough of the callousness, and spun and stepped toward the older man, "Agent Gordon, a word?"

Begrudgingly, Gordon moved away from Eric to hear her out.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"He's a man of business, and I'm getting down to business."

Emily could feel her blood boiling but spoke quietly through clenched teeth. "You need to get a handle on yourself right now. You have no clue to this man's past or temperament like I do. You can't just throw Sheila's death around like it's standard _business._"

Gordon continued to stare in defiance to Emily but conceded when Eric's emotion filled voice filtered from behind them. "Can we get back to what the hell you're talking about?"

"I'm sorry," Gordon apologized, side stepping the brunette. "What would you like to know?"

"What the hell happened?"

"Agent Prentiss and Agent Winters were meeting for dinner when they were mugged."

Emily shook her head at Gordon, realizing it wasn't going to stop. He was a rogue wave she had no control of and now a lie. She knew his superiors spun it, but she didn't like it. The whole situation in front of her was worse than she had imagined. She was about to grasp what little control she could when Eric's harsh words landed hard.

"So why are you alive?"

She was not surprised at the question, or his anger. Unfortunately she didn't have a suitable answer. She was still searching for a plausible one herself.

"I don't know." Emily answered honestly.

Eric was exasperate, the news difficult to take in. His arms flew up as he began to rant. "She joins the FBI then disappears, and now here you are telling me she's dead."

"What do you mean disappears?" Emily asked. As far as she knew Sheila had not made efforts to see him, but she would not deny him if he had wanted to see her.

"By the time I cleaned up and ready it was too late. I couldn't find her, and assumed she meant it to be that way."

Eric began to pace, his emotions all over the place. The two agents stood back respectful to allow him to digest the information. After minutes of his mumbling being the only audible sound heard he turned an accusatory eye to Emily.

"You know she joined the FBI because of you."

"What?"

"That whole lawyer gig was too boring of an option apparently. You somehow got it in her head that she'd be able to solve our parent's murder. Better resources I guess."

"I never-" Emily bit her lip and stopped herself. She was not about to argue with him. He was hurting and had a right to be angry; he was just told he had lost all chances to make amends with his only sister. A sister that would stop the world to help him.

"I'm so sorry Eric." Emily said in all sincerity, but she knew her apology meant nothing.

"Me too." He said, his hand running through his hair, and then let his weight fall onto the nearest couch.

"Maybe you should just go." He said looking up to her, his anger switching to grief. She saw the pure sadness that filled him. Her heart ached at his pain, and if it helped at all would do as he wished.

Emily nodded and looked to Gordon, who shook his head slightly. "I'll be right out."

"I don't think-" Emily tried again, but Eric put his hand up.

"It's fine."

"No, Eric-"

"I said it's fine, what worse news could he deliver?"

Emily hesitated and eyed Gordon once more silently urging the warning that it was inappropriate to push his agenda on Eric. Gordon only acknowledged with his eyes, but turned back to the grieving man. Emily walked out the knot in her stomach growing with each step she took away from the two men.

* * *

Emily pushed off the car and watched in silence and bewilderment as Eric flew from the house and quickly got into his car. The tires screeched and the engine roared as he peeled away.

"What did you do?" Emily asked turning to Gordon.

Gordon shook his head and stepped down the stairs. He still didn't answer as he circled around the car and reached for the handle. He then paused and looked over the roof to Emily. "Nothing. You were right, he wasn't ready."

"I really don't understand how you would think it was in any way appropriate to bring it up."

"I got it." He said under his breath.

Emily didn't hold back, the image of Eric breaking pushed her further. "You saw his reaction. You can't just blurt out that his only living family member is dead, and then _oh by the way_ I want a full recount of everything you know about the murder you witnessed as a kid!"

"I don't need a lecture right now Agent!" He said raising his voice, a deep warning in his words. He climbed in the driver's side leaving Emily standing in wonder to what he was really going on.

Feeling more confused and angry she took one last look to the towering mansion and opened her door to get in the car. Gordon was waiting impatiently for her. He had already started the car and was rapping his fingers along the wheel itching to put the car in gear. Before she could snap her buckle in he was pulling out of the driveway and onto the residential street.

"What's really going on? Why such the rush to solve a 20 year old murder?" Emily asked.

When he didn't respond she held her questions. Yelling at him or prying wasn't going to get any information. She could see that Gordon was closed off. He was rigid in his seat and his face was drawn in frustration. Emily would wait. She looked out the window, forced to sit in silence she mulled over Eric's reaction. She was worried about him. She didn't see a wedding ring, and she wondered if he had anyone to confide in or find comfort. It began to gnaw at her more. The need to seek him out and offer help or support began to overwhelm her. But that was if he would accept it.

The car pulling to the side and then to a sudden stop pulled her from her thoughts. She looked curiously to Gordon who threw the car in park and scrubbed his calloused hands over his unshaven face.

"Sheila's dead because of me." He blurted out as his hands came down in a heap on his lap.

"What?" Emily asked in shock. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm in serious trouble." He answered quietly and looked out the window to the tree hanging over them.

Emily sat up straighter and then unbuckled her seatbelt to be able to turn and face the agent better. "What kind of trouble?"

"He has a hold on me, you wouldn't understand."

"Try me." Emily said in a soft tone. She refrained from being demanding for him to get to the point. She knew that his emotions were on the surface, but she would let him divulge whatever the information was at his own pace. She knew he had been on personal mission with a pressing deadline. She had a feeling he was about to reveal what it all was.

He blew out a breath and the words tumbled out with it. "The last assignment Sheila had was to get a list of all people that have any kind of debt owed to the family."

"And you're on that list." Emily deduced quickly.

Gordon's head dropped, his chin landed on his chest in a nod of defeat.

Emily suddenly felt the anger once again fill her veins. All of his actions being to fall into place. "So, in fear of getting ousted you allowed Sheila to be compromised and murdered?"

"NO! It's not that simple!"

"It's not?" Emily tilted her head in disbelief. "That's what it sounds like to me."

Gordon shook his head, "Before the team was even formed Carbone had threatened my family. He knew I was FBI but didn't know what department I was. He made a deal with me, my debt would be forgiven if I keep tabs on what the FBI knows and on top my family remained safe."

"What did you do?" Emily asked in hesitation, almost not wanting to know.

"I made sure I was the go between and filtered out information."

"How much?"

"Enough."

Emily felt the pit in her stomach grow. She was appalled at this revelation. Her gut had told her that there was something more, but didn't want to believe it. One of her best friends placed her life in this man's hands. Sheila had no clue that she was being held hostage by the one person she thought she could trust.

"How was it that Sheila never questioned you?"

Gordon looked back out the window his voice low. "I was the only person she had contact with, so as far as she knew all the information she had retrieved was not good enough."

"Until she saw your name in the books. You knew when the assignment was handed down that she would discover the truth and you would be stuck. You're the reason she was compromised, you told them." Emily accused again.

"No! I would never do that! I don't know how it happened. When I got wind of it I tried to find her but couldn't. By then it was too late."

Emily shook only her head unable to verbally respond.

"I thought I could keep her safe, I vowed to her I would. I didn't." His guilt was clear in his voice and visible in his sunken posture.

"No, you didn't." Emily agreed. "What's in the files?"

"Everything we need to take Carbone down for good." He answered softly.

It now made sense to why Carbone had sent the men to retrieve it. She figured Gordon was more involved than he was letting on, but at that point it didn't matter. It had all unraveled for him, he couldn't keep his family safe if the files were retrieved, and they would be. He knew it was inevitable with it being in Garcia's hands. He was trying to pick up and cover what pieces he could. Seeing Eric was a last effort to redeem himself, maybe miraculously solve their parents murder and somehow make up for his own selfish acts. An act that got her friend killed. Emily shook her head in disgust and leaned back to be able to retrieve her phone from her coat pocket.

"What are you doing?"

Emily pressed the button and brought it to her ear before she answered. "Calling Hotch, and I'm driving us back."

"He's going to kill my family you understand that don't you." He said with panic filling his voice.

Emily glared at him. "Maybe you should have thought about their safety and put your energy there and not on using a man you just crushed as a stepping stone."

"But-"

Emily spoke up before he could finish and looked away. "We'll make sure they're safe."

He opened his mouth to protest but the shadows appeared out of no-where, just like they had wanted. The attack was an uncontrolled frenzy of smashing and pounding. The noise was deafening, and the two agents could only duck as shards of glass flew in all directions. The front window pushed inward from the force of the blunt object. The safety glass splintered but clung together until the next violent blow. The side windows received the same treatment.

In the attack Emily dropped the phone just as Hotch's voice greeted her. Her arms went to protect her face from the spraying glass. Just as the initial attack ceased the door flew open and hands wrestling her from the seat. She looked up to see another man haul Gordon from the driver's side. The next image Emily had was the concrete of the sidewalk inches from her face. The jarring caused her to lose focus and her head began to pound, the reminece of the concussion resurfacing. The same forceful hands flipped her over and once again she found herself on the wrong end of a gun.

* * *

_Oiy! Will it ever stop? Poor thing got pulled into some shady business and people. _

_Thank you for reading! Don't forget to let me know what you think of the story!_

_Happy Holidays to all!_


	9. Chapter 9

_Thank you for hanging in! I hope I haven't lost too many readers. I'm sorry the updates are getting further apart, it's a tough story for me and keeps changing in my head. _

_Happy reading!_

* * *

Emily was being held in place by two hundred and eighty pounds of bone and pure muscle. The man, or more like a kid, looked like he was barely in his mid twenties. His body type was reminiscent of a football player; maybe he was one back in high school. He probably didn't graduate but never stopped lifting weights and bulking up. Emily doubted if he had ever lost a fight in his life.

For a moment they were still, both getting their bearings. He pushed her hard into the ground, his forearm against her chest and a knee across her legs. His free hand held the gun that she eyed carefully. By the way he held his finger on the trigger it was clear he didn't know how to properly use it. As much as she wanted to struggle she tried not to make any sudden movements and cause him to get trigger-happy even on accident. There was no give to the hard unforgiving ground she was pressed against. She felt pebbles of automotive glass grinding into her skin, no doubt leaving deep penetrating marks. Her head continued to pound, almost blindly so, but she concentrated on her breathing to ensure she was as still as possible.

She knew he wasn't there to just hold her down, he had a purpose and she was soon going to find out what that was. The thought that she found herself between a rock and a hard place became too common of an occurrence for her as of late, and the idea that Morgan was all too right nagged at her. The overly muscular boy stripping her of her own weapon got her complete attention.

"Now why does a pretty girl like yourself need a big gun like this?"

"For people like you." She answered glaring up at him.

He chuckled but his demeanor changed as a sudden battle began to rage out of their sights.

Emily didn't like the sound of the struggle as it intensified on the other side of the car. She tried in vain to look around the large Italian blocking her escape. She could tell that the situation was also unnerving him. They probably had a simple task to get in and get out. That was not happening, they had no idea their targets would not go down easily, even with the blitz attack. He had his head on a swivel looking around the neighborhood. He was clearly only muscle and nothing more, but he understood that the commotion they had created would cause the residence to be on alert. Emily was surprised sirens were not already filling the chilled air around them.

"Tommy! What the hell?!" He called back behind him.

When there was no response he threw his head back to look again to the men battling it out in the street. There was a split second of silence then a blast shattered it. Emily felt her blood run cold as she saw Gordon's lifeless eyes meet hers in the crack of space between the undercarriage of the mangled car and road. She shuddered when a sudden image of seeing Sheila the exact same way flashed through her mind.

The panic that had occupied her captor only intensified as he watched his partner jump up cursing and running his hand through his hair in agitation. There sharp eyes met and both men knew that the situation just took a dive for the worse.

Fast and heavy footfalls hit the asphalt as the man ran off and disappeared from view. The loud rumbling of a motor replaced the frantic breathing of the man whose hold on Emily had become tighter. A door flew open and a distant voice called for him to get in the car.

"What about her?" He asked tilting his head in Emily's direction.

"I don't know man! Bring her I guess."

"What?"

"Just do it!"

Emily was forced to stand, but she tensed and dug her feet in resisting. People had come out of their homes and sirens began to bounce off the treetops. The men were rattled and her mind spun thinking of a way to stall. She opened her mouth to speak when the first strike seemed to come out of no-where. In a downward swing he hit her hard in the gut forcing the air from her lungs and caused her stomach to recoil in a pain induced nausea. She doubled over immediately but before she could completely crumple more blinding pain shot through her as his fist connected just below her kidney. Her knees buckled and she went straight to the blacktop. Her shaky arms tried to hold her up from completely flattening on the road. Stars filled her eyes and focus was useless. It took everything she had not to lose the contents of her stomach.

"Damn it, Carmine, we don't have time for that! The heats on us! Get her in already!"

Between trying to gasp for the smallest breath and the stomach churning pain she was useless to fight. She closed her eyes briefly as she was forced from the ground. In one movement she found herself wedged between the backseat and front. She gaged as her face smeared across the filthy floorboard. When she tried to adjust herself to find any comfort or the much-needed breath his heavy foot pressed harder across her shoulder blades holding her in place.

As the door was shut the tires squealed and they peeled out. A brief hope that they would not make it a block before they were cornered quickly faded as they continued to move at high speeds; turning and weaving, the driver expertly getting away.

The two did not speak at first. The anxiety built to a suffocating point until it finally burst.

"Whaddya do Tommy?" The fear in his voice betrayed the young man's strong facade.

The driver hissed a warning. "It was an accident, got it!"

"Boss is going to be pissed, man!"

Tommy slammed his hands on the wheel and accelerated more, "Shut up, Carmine! Just shut up!"

Carmine leaned back and his legs shook in agitation, but his weight didn't completely shift off of Emily. They continued to drive fast and erratic for what seemed like an eternity. When they finally stopped and she was yanked out she felt slight relief for the fresh air, but it faded at the prospect of how it was all going to play out. Her where abouts were unknown to her or anyone that mattered. She couldn't help but feel the fear that had slowly been creeping up.

They had pulled up in a narrow alley lined by old brick buildings. Dusk was settling in and the towering buildings caused dark shadows to be drawn out around them. It made it harder for Emily to see any clues to where they were, and before she could examine her surroundings any longer a sharp elbow to her rib got her attention. The two men moved fast half carrying her into the building through a ragged screen door. Just a few steps in another door was opened. One of the men bunched the back of her shirt and pulled her up then forced her through the door before releasing his hold. The shove made her stumble into the dark depths of the room and she collided with a table. Before she could regain herself strong hands had her again and made her sit upright at the head of the small table she had been so violently introduced. Her arms were secured behind her back and her legs tied tightly to the chair legs.

When they were satisfied she had no way to escape they moved to the shadows and waited. Emily could feel that their anxiety was only becoming more prevalent as whoever was going to come through the door drew near.

Emily lifted her head to fully see who was entering the darkened room. A large figure transformed in the dim light. As he came into focus Emily immediately recognized the man. The unmistakable jagged face of Vincent Carbone, a sharp nose accentuated by a square jaw and lips sealed tightly in a thin line. He stood solid as a stone; his only movement was his dark eyes examining the contents of the room, but he mainly eyed her. After a moment his head tilted towards the two men shifting their weight nervously feet from him, then back to Emily.

Vincent glared at her, and made a point of smoothing his shirt in his waistband. His hands then casually settled behind the holster on his hip. The action was only to make a point to expose his gun, an intimidation tactic, but Emily pretended that she wasn't impressed and didn't flinch. He said nothing for a full minute not taking his eyes from her, and she did not waiver from his icy stare. Emily knew this was not a good situation, and seeing Carbone made it worse. He had wanted Gordon; her only hope was that he did not recognize her, but that thought was doubtful.

He took one step forward and his deep baritone voice reverberated in the small room. "What the hell is this?"

Neither men budged until he spoke again his tone deeper and with a sharper edge of anger. "I asked a fucking question!"

Both men jumped in pure fear to the man's voice and intention.

Tommy directed his hand towards Emily, "she was with him, I just thought-"

"I don't give a shit about what you thought, where's Ben?"

Carmine made a small pointed gesture with his thumb towards Tommy, "Uhhh, there was an accident."

With the words Carbone spun completely to face the two younger men. "An accident? What sort of accident?" He demanded.

Emily couldn't take her eyes from the train wreck occurring in front of her. The two men futilely trying to scrap and crawl their way out of the grave they had effortlessly dug less than an hour earlier.

"A small accident boss!" Tommy insisted his words swallowed by his fear.

"Small accident?" Their boss' temper growing and words forced out though tightly clenched teeth. His hand rested firmly on the butt of his gun.

Carmine jumped in. "A small tussle and Tommy shot him."

"The gun just went off!" Tommy yelled out trying to save himself.

"Okay." Carbone rocked back on his heels, his head nodding and voice softer. "I see."

The two men eased at what seemed to be a slightly lightened mood in their boss. Emily knew better than to think anything good was coming. It was telegraphed too clearly in front of her. Vincent Carbone moved his weight back to the balls of his feet and the same time his gun was released from its hold. Tommy's face sealed in fear as the bullet ripped through his heart. Carmine watched in shock as the body fell next to him. His hands went up in surrender.

Carbone ignored the cowardice and didn't flinch as he pulled the trigger again. Emily knew that it was coming but with each fiery release of the bullets she recoiled in on herself as much as her binds would allow. The violent and deafening blasts shook her already aching head. Even after it was over it continued to ring and echo in her ears. All she could do was close her eyes to gain some control. When she opened them again she looked at the two bodies in a heap on the floor. Vincent stood over them in his self-proclaimed power. She slowly raised her eyes when Carbone was facing her again. Fear crawled up her spine when they met his and she half expected that he'd dispose of her right then.

But he didn't. He re-holstered his gun and took one step towards her then stopped. He pulled out a phone speaking quickly. "I need Marcello in here."

Satisfied he had control again he examined whom he had in front of him. Emily remained quiet trying to get a read on him.

He pocketed his phone and cleared his throat. "Now, what to do with you?"

"Simple, let me go." She tried in a matter of fact tone.

Carbone let out a laugh. "Oh that's good. Look at the brave agent. I'd probably be cocky too if I survived two encounter's with my men."

"Three." She said smirking.

He laughed again and adjusted his belt. "You remind me of Megan."

"Sheila." She corrected him.

He dismissed her. "I knew there was a rat. I had smelled one for a while."

Emily said nothing.

"I have to give it to her. Megan was good, oohh she was really good."

"Sheila." She said again with more enunciation. Emily hated his tone he took when speaking of her, as if she was nothing and there was no way she would allow it.

"I do have to say I was truly shocked and saddened, but rats only deserve one fate."

His words sickened her. "You're a coward."

He moved closer and squinted his eyes at her as if examining her closer. "I'm surprised at you."

"What does that mean?"

"Why are you not begging for your life? I could crush you in a second."

"But you haven't," Emily said shaking her head. "What do you want?"

A small smile returned to his face. "You could walk out of here by just making the files you got all go away." He said and made a vanishing gesture in the air.

"You know better than that."

"You definitely remind me of Megan."

"Sheila."

He rolled his eyes at her determination. "Well, I have no use for you then."

She knew he was right, but he hadn't killed her yet. She wasn't sure why, but she wouldn't go down without a fight. Yet, she was alone, tied to a chair and no one knew where she was. She could hope that Hotch heard something, or Garcia picked up on the 911 calls, but hope was all it was and she couldn't rely on hope. She wanted to imagine that the team would crash through the doors, but by the time any news of what happened to Gordon reached them she'd probably already be dead. Carbone had no real intentions of letting her go, his men messed up by bringing her there. Even if she played along and tried to bargain she was a witness to two murders by the local mob boss. She knew she wasn't leaving that dark room, she just didn't know when. He seemed to be enjoying the fact that they both knew how the exchange would end. She however refused to let him know she accepted the expected outcome, she would continue to show her strength.

"It's over for you." She stated plainly.

Carbone laughed again, "You are truly baffling. Look at you still going."

Emily didn't stop. He didn't have his gun drawn and seemed amused at the banter, so she would continue and stall for any good it might do. "It's been over the second Sheila and I met. You're only chance was to have your incompetent men kill me in the alley too."

"Really?" He said leaning his weight against the table and crossing his arms.

"You thought you could use your muscle and inside man to keep you clean, but the truth always reveals itself. You're last stitch effort was to bring Ben in here and threaten him and his family some more."

He was interested, he brought one arm out and put his hand palm facing up encouraging her to continue. "Go on."

"In your arrogance you thought that was all that was needed for all the information the FBI has just received on you to miraculously be wiped away."

"If it ain't broke." He shrugged casually.

"They're going to be knocking on your door soon, but the question is are you going to add the murder of another Federal agent to the wrap or just kidnapping?"

Vincent frowned and opened his mouth to respond, but the door swinging inward stopped him. A smaller man walked in. He wasn't like the other men Emily had encountered. He was not pure bulk and no brains, he had a different role, and Emily wasn't sure she wanted to know what it was. He was skinny but well dressed, and had the same smug look all of Carbone's men had painted across his face. Pulling a lit cigarette from his lips he looked to Emily then took a quick glance to the men laying lifelessly on the floor.

"You called Boss?"

Carbone waved his hand to the shorter man. "Ahh Marcello just in time."

He turned back to Emily directing a wide smile towards her that revealed his crooked teeth. "You want to know why Marcello is so vital to my livelihood?"

Emily didn't answer.

"He's the best butcher this town has ever seen."

There was a sudden twinkle in his eye as he spoke that made her skin crawl. She knew he wasn't talking about a Deli or a Butcher shop.

He then pushed off the table and walked slowly around her. He stood behind her letting her feel his towering presence. She tensed slightly as he leaned in close, the half day of stubble scratching her face. She tried not to flinch at his proximity and closed her eyes as his breath and words hit her ears.

"It's simple really. No body, no crime."

* * *

_Thank you for reading! Please don't hesitate to let me know your thoughts about the story and this chapter!_


	10. Chapter 10

_Back again, finally. Slowly but surely I will get this story written. Thank you all so much for sticking with me! I hope you enjoy!_

_Happy reading!_

* * *

Aaron Hotchner had had his fill of unnerving moments the last two days. He was not expecting to have to deal with any more, but found that he was once again experiencing the slow panic of the unknown. He had been leaning over Garcia to read the information she had just pulled up when his phone alerted him of a call. He was somewhat surprised when he saw Prentiss' name. His immediate thought was that it was unexpected; his second thought was that it is was probably her asking to come back in and work. His third was more of concern and wondering if she was okay. The reality silenced the questioning voices. His mind went blank in a brief confusion to what he was hearing on the other end of the line. There were ear-shattering sounds of glass breaking and metal crunching. It sounded like a car accident but the accompaniment of muffled cursing and laughing gave the situation a different light. He called out repeatedly for Emily to answer, but there was no response, just the continual chaos happening on her end.

Derek, the only other agent in the room, grew closer; questions of what was happening spilling from his lips and concern painted across his face. Aaron avoided him and looked down to Garcia, but she was in a more prevalent display of overflowing worry.

"Sir?" She mouthed with tears glistening in her eyes.

"Can you trace this call?" He asked abruptly trying to swallow his own emotional reaction.

"Uhhh.."Garcia turned back to her computer and frantically typed. The stress of the situation caused her to fumble along the keyboard.

"Prentiss was going to Sheila's brother's place with Agent Gor-" Derek started then paused when Hotch put his hand up. He was trying to concentrate on the voices and sounds he heard to hopefully understand what was happening.

"What's going on Hotch?" Derek asked anxiously.

Hotch's brow furrowed deeper as he concentrated. He could hear faint voices he did not recognize, and then Emily talking to someone, but couldn't understand what she was saying. A sudden gunshot created an eerie silence that caused his stomach to drop to his shoes.

* * *

"Marcello, I have quite the challenge for you." Carbone spoke over the top of Emily, but squeezed down on her shoulder. She sank down slightly at the unexpected pain, but kept her eyes forward.

"Yeah?" The man asked through the cigarette he held between his teeth.

"Get Tony and get those two out of my back room." He pointed behind the man, and then moved around to be in front of Emily. He kept his back to her and only nodded in her direction as he spoke. "Take her too and finish the job."

"Take her, alive?" He asked looking to Emily in uncertainty. His change in vocal tone and facial expression was a clear sign of weakness and Emily became curious to his hesitation.

Vincent sighed heavily, "I can't have any trace of her ever being here. You've got to grow some, and looks like today's that day."

Emily swallowed hard and watched Carbone glide away in his annoying arrogance. He patted the smaller man on the shoulder and left the room without caring to look back. Emily immediately brought her attention to the man that stood puffing on the remains of a cigarette. He held a mixed look of unease and annoyance. He then looked back to the bodies on the floor and sighed in irritation. He strolled to the center of the room pulled his phone from his back pocket and spoke into it quickly. He glared at Emily as he spoke. She watched every detail of his face, from his empty eyes to how his lips moved as he formed his words. She then focused on the cigarette; a red beacon flaring as he inhaled. He pulled it from his lips and flicked it to the floor. The ambers scattered and diffused into the darkness. His voice directed to her snapped her back to him.

"Well this is quite the predicament isn't it?" He said as he released the last of the smoke from his lungs.

"How's that?" Emily asked with caution.

"I'm not one for changing my methods," he replied and swung his torso in the direction of the two lifeless men heaped in the corner. "Killing you here and now would be easier but quite messy. However I'm not one for transporting live cargo."

Emily tried to hold her reaction to his objectification of her. She couldn't expect anything more from any of these men, but she had picked up on the fact he doesn't enjoy the kill. He cleans up others messes. He isn't the one taking the life so his reasoning for his part of the job was simple. He treats it like a butcher of animals. By doing this he can become detached from the actual act he is committing. It didn't make Emily feel any better knowing this, but did create a small sliver of hope that maybe she had a chance.

* * *

Derek rubbed his hand across his head in frustration, in this very instance he hated being right. His gut had been screaming at him that something wasn't right, but convincing Emily of it was like pounding his head into a wall and hoping to break through before his split open. He watched Garcia anxiously type and wait for results of the location of Emily's phone. Finally pinpointing it she released a slight breath and pointed to her screen.

"Where is that in relation to Eric Winter's home?" Derek asked.

"Who?" Garcia asked then shook her head remembering. "Oh right, yeah." She pulled up another window and feverishly typed and within seconds had the answer Derek was expecting. She wasn't far at all from Eric's. He didn't say a word before he was blowing through the door with a single destination on his mind. Aaron had caught up to him before the elevator doors parted.

"I want Rossi to go with you." He said and stopped short. Derek heard a panic in his tone; it was subtle but there. He didn't think twice about it, he was feeling the same way. The whole ordeal was unnerving, and the thought of the possibility of losing Emily was almost too much. He hoped to never have the feeling and thoughts he had when the same situation had presented itself only a few days earlier, but they were bubbling up again and stronger than they had been before.

"No, you need them here to find Tracy." Derek said shaking his head. It was hard for him to pretend to care for the case they were on. He had compassion and wanted to find the missing girl, but all his thought were on their missing girl. Once word spread that was all anyone else would be able to focus on and that would be no help for Tracy, and in no way fair for her.

"I already have Garcia speaking to JJ about briefing another team. I'm going to talk to Strauss right now. We need everyone on this, Emily is more important."

Derek was relieved to hear it and nodded. Hotch moved fast, especially when one of their own was in trouble and not surprised that Dave was already headed towards them with the same determined look to hide the troubling emotions he was feeling.

Without a word Dave stepped onto the elevator and looked to Derek to move as well.

"Let's do this." He said joining him.

"Keep me updated." Aaron called after them as the doors sealed.

The two men remained silent in their own swarming thoughts. They knew nothing they said was going to make the situation any better. They just needed to get there and face what ever it was head on. There was no choice in what happened only how they reacted and progressed forward. That, of course, was easier said than done.

* * *

Emily felt some hope that they were moving her and not killing her right then. It was unexpected considering how Carbone would normally not risk keeping her alive. She had no doubt that after he killed his two henchmen she was next. She wasn't going to question it any more, it gave her more time to plan and fight back. She didn't fight them and gave no indication of a struggle as they removed her from the chair and retied her arms behind her back. She knew that was not the right time. There were too many unknown armed men on the other side of the door. She had a better chance with only two of them. Once forced into the back of the van Tony hastily tied her legs as Marcello snapped from behind for him to hurry up.

The moment the door slammed shut Emily began to work her arms to get them in front of her. There was a partition that separated her from the two in the front seats. It blocked them from seeing what she was doing, and she made sure her movements were as minimal as possible to not draw any attention to her. She listened carefully to the conversation the two were having in hopes to get a clue to where they may be heading, but all they spoke about was the new stripper at their favorite joint. She turned her focus back to her bindings. It wasn't a simple task, but Tony was no knot expert and she gradually wiggled her hands free. Before the van came to a complete stop and the engine was cut she had completely freed herself. She listened to Marcello as he gave Tony orders to get her, but she couldn't make out what Marcello said he was doing. His voice had faded as he moved away from the van. She steadied her body and mind for the next task of confronting the man coming for her. In the moments before he opened the doors she searched the back for a weapon, anything to use, but all there was her and the two bodies wrapped in blankets.

She pushed herself as far back as she could a got into position. When the doors swung open she placed her hands behind her to pretend she was still bound. There was barely any light; Tony was a nothing more than a shadow that merged with darkness behind him. She welcomed it to hide her intentions and recoiled to attack.

"Alright woman." He said as he reached in. When he realized she was not within arms length he huffed and stepped in, just like she was hoping he would.

When he was in far enough Emily sprang forward and used all of her weight to send him into the side of the van making sure his head hit first. He let out a surprised yelp as they collided. He was silent as he slid down and landed face first on the cold metal floor of the van. She flipped him over ready to continue the battle but his eyes were unfocused and slowly rolled to the back of his head. She flipped him back over and grabbed the rope that had recently held her and expertly tied his arms and legs. She knew he wouldn't be out long, but needed more of an advantage. Emily then dropped to knees and hastily searched him for a gun, phone and keys. She came up with a phone attached to his belt, but no gun or keys. She was confused at the absent weapon but didn't have time to ponder it.

Feeling the urgency to leave, Emily cautiously poked her head around the open door. There was no light except the faint one that came from the small building directly in front of her. Surrounding them were large masses that looked like storage containers, but beyond the few right next to them everything else faded into a sea of blackness. There were no streetlights or even a hint of moonlight to give any more voice to her surrounding. It was unnerving but she knew that panicking would do nothing for her. She reminded herself that she had a phone at least.

Not seeing any sign of Marcello she jumped out and spun around to the side of the van. With her back tightly pressed against the vehicle she inched her way to the driver's side. She hoped Marcello had left the keys, it was a long shot but was worth a look if it meant her driving herself out of there. Keeping her head moving to watch for him she slowly pulled the handle and eased the door open and looked. Her heart dropped briefly that there were no keys dangling from the ignition. She quickly ran her hands over the seats and floorboard just to make sure, but she felt nothing except the worn and tattered fabric. Marcello's voice calling out caught her attention; he was coming back. The darkness gave her an advantage, and she counted on the fact that he would head to the back of the van first. She curled around the front and stayed low. She kept her eyes peeled to catch a glimpse of the man. She crouched down one hand on the bumper the other on the ground adjusting her weight for balance. She heard the shuffling of dirt and emerging from the curtain of black he appeared. His voice rose to a panicked decibel as he realized his _live cargo_ had escaped.

The scene went quiet and Emily strained to hear his position. The van rocked slightly and she held her breath and pushed back to cover all angles unsure of his next move. It was too quiet, but she dare not make the first noise. A sudden beam of light appeared and stabbed through the surroundings. It went to the ground, then to the air, roaming in all directions. Emily moved to escape the searching stream of light and worked to get behind him.

Once satisfied she had gone unseen she closed the distance between them fast, her intentions were to attack before he could react. She wrapped her arms around him and pushed off her feet to bring him down. The flashlight bounced out of his hand as their bodies met and pounded into the ground. She had hoped to use the light as a weapon but it tumbled just out of reach. Once settled it illuminated their struggle. Not skipping a beat she brought a clenched fist across his face stunning him. He yelled out and brought his arm up and that was when the small ray of light bounced off the shining blade he held tightly. She threw her right hand across her body to stop the assault and with all her strength kept the sharpened point at bay. He strained against her and they were held at a brief standstill. She moved her left arm to aid in holding his from progressing forward. With a quick movement she brought her elbow down as hard as she could directly into his nose. The result was instant. The knife fell and the man became useless, consumed by the excruciating pain she created.

As he whimpered and cursed at her she retrieved the weapon and with it forced him to pay attention to her.

"Where are the keys to the van?"

"Go to hell, bitch." He cursed, his words slurred from the blood pouring from his nose and dripping down his throat.

She searched him but came up empty. "I'm going to ask you again."

"Go ahead," he challenged, "kill me. That's the only way you're going to get away."

She ignored his comments. She had to think. She needed to get a call out but she had to restrain him first. She was lacking the material to do so, and thought of the rope she had used on Tony. At the same moment a muffled cursing coming from the van caught her attention and she looked sideways to it. She saw Tony's form climb out of the back. With it she felt the cold sweat of the revelation rush over her. The silence she had heard earlier wasn't Marcello assessing the situation he was cutting Tony free. Her moment of clarity was too late as the shadow charged full tilt towards her. He enveloped her ripping her from her position and the two of them flew like two football players engaged in the perfect tackle. She was in no position to handle the weight and force produced by the large man. The ground came on hard and unforgiving. She was unable to pinpoint the origin of the pain as it radiated throughout her. Her knee felt like it exploded as it twisted beneath her in a direction no leg should. She lost her breath at the same time her head bounced off the graveled road. She blacked out briefly, but as the stars cleared she realized the man on top of her was not moving more than shallow raspy breaths. She felt the warm liquid that coated her hand caught between her body and his. She remembered the knife and with all the strength she had she wrestled her way out, her knee violently protesting each micro movement.

She tried to find clarity but the pain battered her. She could figure out that Tony was no longer a threat but Marcello was not on the ground in front of her. No matter where she looked her eyes came back to her knee. She set the blade down and then slowly ran her hand down the side of her pant and gingerly touched the area that felt so unnatural. She cringed as she realized her patella was pushed to the side in the completely wrong place, dislocated. The slightest movement caused tearing pain that overpowered thought. The tendons stretched to their limits, elastic bands ready to burst. She knew what she had to do, she had to reset it, and the pain would lessen. She pushed and pulled, but with no result. She blinked through watery eyes to the darkness searching for Marcello. She couldn't understand where he would have gone. She broke his nose for sure; he could have gone to tend to it thinking Tony would take of her. Or he went in for a more precise weapon. Either way she had to get herself to a point she could create distance from her current location.

She gripped her thigh so tightly her nails dug past the material and into her skin. It was nothing compared to the jabbing agony that was shooting out from her knee. She had to be decisive and quick like a chiropractor adjusting a spine. A quick jerk of unsuspected movement to almost trick the tightened muscles and tendons to release their grip and let the rogue bone relocate. She listened for the click and pop and breathed out as she finally felt it righted. The hard part was over.

She knew she couldn't stay there but she wasn't sure which way to go. She needed to find a hiding spot and try to call for help. She reached to the dirt by her side and picked the knife back up. Keeping her injured leg as straight as possible she worked her way to an upright position. She instantly felt the instability in her knee and knew she wasn't going to be able to put a lot of weight on it. She was going to have to limp her way out of there. Emily tightened her grip on her only weapon and took another look around expecting Marcello to appear and finish her, but there was no one. She looked to the building she figured he was in but there was no movement and the light that had once been on was no longer shining through the small window. She wasn't sure how to feel about that, and made the whole situation more confusing. She looked back to the ground and noticed he did take the flashlight.

With hesitant steps she started to move in the direction of the van. Once she reached it she used it to stabilize her and help her move forward. Looking to the seemingly desolate scene in front of her she was unsure the best move. The storage containers could give her some coverage to try and call out. She slowly made her way to the closest one and with another look back she grabbed the corner and turned down it. With each agonizing step she moved down the dark tunnel her only guide was her hand running along the cold metal. Reaching the end she was greeted with a chained link fence topped with thick barbed wire. The fence probably ran along the border of the containers and most likely met at a locked gate, meaning she was trapped. Once Marcello discovered Tony was dead it was only a matter of time for him to begin his search, and he knew the area. She had no visual to where she was or best move to make. There however was a small space to move between the containers and fence. She could use the fence as support and try to find a weak spot to get outside.

For the moment she needed to use the vale of darkness to try and call for help. Yet, she found herself hesitating. If she brought the phone to life the light from the screen could give her away, but she needed to call. She looked back again and listened for any sign of Marcello. Satisfied that there was no one she reached into her pocket and pulled out the phone she had hijacked from Tony. Her heart sank when she realized that the screen had been cracked on the earlier impact with the ground. With shaking fingers she pressed it on in hopes it worked at all. There was a small flicker of life, and that was all she needed to call 911.

Hearing the operator almost took her voice but she regained it quickly and she identified herself. She was relieved that the operator knew she was missing, but before any more information could be exchanged the phone went dead. Emily tried again but to no avail.

"Damn it!" She looked at the useless device in her hand. She pressed her back against the hard surface behind her and let her legs slowly extend out and eased herself to a seated position. She absently rubbed her knee and looked around the blackness hoping to figure out what her next move was. She was more than trapped, but she couldn't stay there. She wasn't going to be able to move fast, and her only weapon she had was the knife. With the decision made she forced herself back up ignoring her bodies objections. She had to push deeper into the abyss and maybe find a way out before Marcello reappeared from the shadows. She knew his intentions would be to kill; she had no doubt she had pushed him to that point.

* * *

_More team in the next chapter I promise! I hope you liked and don't forget to take a moment and let me know! Thank you for reading!_


	11. Chapter 11

_I know the gap is getting longer and I do apologize, but don't fret it is not a lost story, I work on it when I can!_

_Happy reading!_

* * *

The black FBI issued SUV travelled smoothly along the streets, but Derek's leg shook in agitation. Why he had let Rossi take the wheel he wasn't sure. The man's nonchalant driving was adding to his rapidly growing anxiety. His head moved in a constant cycle from the road out in front, to the speedometer and then to his watch.

Dave tilted his head slightly but didn't take his eyes from the road. "You're wasting energy."

"What?" Derek asked shocked at the senior profiler's comment.

Dave ignored his tone. "Your nervous energy is not doing you any good."

"I don't get how you can be so calm about all of this."

"What good would it do Emily to be any other way?"

"Because it's Emily, not some victim we can separate ourselves from so easily." He looked at his watch again. "Yet, here you are, doing it."

Rossi slowly shook his head and briefly made eye contact to his passenger. "No, Derek, I have only separated myself enough so I can be rational and not allow my emotions of the unknown possible outcomes dictate how I react or what I do."

"I'm rational," Morgan protested, "but if it was an attack from Carbone's men they-"

Dave threw his hand up quickly to cut off his train of thought. "We don't know that, and we play this thing like she's alive."

Derek could only nod a response and returned to the silent state he had earlier occupied and let his leg resume shaking. Dave shrugged it off knowing Derek wore his emotions on his sleeve and there was no changing him. The passion was a good thing, he just had to get it under control so they could utilize it and get Emily back safe.

They rounded a corner and the yellow tape of the police line fluttering in the breeze announced their arrival to the scene. The passenger door was ajar before Dave could come to a complete stop. He watched the blur that was Morgan head straight to the mangled vehicle. He flashed his badge and quickly disregarded the officer that tried to stop him. Dave slowly got out and began is own analysis of what happened.

Derek slowed as he neared the carcass of the car; his destination was to the body covered in the street. He could have asked questions to the officers but he wanted to see it all for himself. As he finally circled around the front of the car he couldn't help but feel that the déjà vuof the scene was all too real. He tried to shake off the thought that the luck had run out and this time his worst fear would be realized. His eyes followed the path of blood that puddled beneath the covered body. He took in the body size and bulk and slight relief began to wash through him. The shiny black dress shoes poking out one end gave him the positive answer that it wasn't Emily. Her whereabouts still unknown to him he turned his attention back to the car hoping it would give some clues.

He glanced back and saw Dave speaking to what he assumed was a witness. Derek knew himself and at that moment he wouldn't be so patient to get answers out of people. He would let Rossi handle that and relay back to him. He quickly went back to assessing the detail of the car.

The windshield was a concave of splintering safety glass, one more blow and it would have been successfully separated from its frame. The side windows were not as lucky, pebbles of glass littered the ground and the backseats. The two tire irons that had caused the damage were haphazardly thrown to the side, one on the road and the other nestled in the grass between the curb and sidewalk. They weren't used for weapons, but more for the initial shock of the attack. Once that was successful the attackers had no use for them. Derek's gut told him that Gordon would be on Carbone's radar and one of the main reason he didn't want Prentiss going. He glanced back to Agent Gordon's body his mind churning in thought. The scene didn't scream a hit, it was too messy and violent. A mob hit would be clean and efficient; there was another reason for the blitz attack. Emily's absence made him believe Gordon's death was an accident. It gave him some hope that it was a sign that she was still alive.

He leaned over slightly to look through the driver's side and to get a better view of of what may have happened on the passenger side; Emily's side. Both doors were wide open and he envisioned the two occupants being forced from their seats. Whatever Emily had held in her hands were released with her ejection. Papers from a file were strewn across the seat and cascaded down onto the floorboard. They covered Emily's purse and her abandoned cell phone protruded through a few sheets. There was no visible blood besides what was around Gordon. This was another small positive Derek saw in the sea of negatives. He straightened up and finally took his eyes from Emily's belongings when he felt Rossi's presence grow closer.

"Well?" He asked.

Dave looked past the dark agent to the car as he spoke, "Witness' confirm seeing two men take Emily. They heard the initial attack on the car but didn't come out right away. The gun firing is what drew most of the residence out. They all saw Emily being shoved into the back of a car."

"Do we have a description?"

"And a license plate." Rossi said nodding towards his notebook. "A BOLO is already out."

With progress being made, Derek moved away from the car and back to the SUV feeling that there wasn't a need to remain there.

He stopped briefly for Rossi to catch up and unclipped his phone. "Do we have Garcia on this?"

"Of course." Dave replied tossing Morgan the keys.

Derek hesitated slightly, but didn't question his superior, and climbed into the driver seat.

As he threaded the key in the ignition he paused. "Now what?"

"We head back to the BAU. I don't think it will be long before there is a hit on the car."

Just as the words left his mouth his phone came to life. He gave a subtle nod and half smile to Derek before answering. Derek pulled out from the curb and waited for Rossi to finish the conversation and give him the information he was receiving.

"Well, they found the car matching the description and plates at a Deli where they found Carbone, but there was no sign of either men or Prentiss."

"Great." Derek let out under his breath and clenched the wheel feeling the positive momentum begin to swing back.

"But, they arrested Carbone and he will be waiting for us by the time we get back."

"What? How?" Derek asked in confusion.

"Our tech genius got into the files that Prentiss had on the zip. Looks like they have that solid case they were needing."

Derek pressed down on the accelerator feeling the urgency to get back and to shake out of the man where Emily was.

* * *

Aaron released the Agent's hand that had introduced himself as Agent Clark, the one heading up the Organized Crimes Task Force, and moved to the side directing his attention to the arrogant man behind the glass.

"So, Agent Hotchner, what can I do for you?" The younger Agent asked.

Aaron glanced to Reid and JJ who looked as shocked as he felt about the question.

"We'd like to question Vincent Carbone. We believe he knows the whereabouts of our missing agent, Emily Prentiss."

"How's that?"

JJ jumped forward not holding back her emotion to the question. "Have you spent the last week under a rock? Two of your undercover agents are dead and now, Emily- Agent Prentiss, who –"

"I'm very aware of the happenings. " The agent interrupted and stepped back throwing his hands up in surrender to the blonde, but quickly countered. "My question was how are you planning to get any information out of this man?"

"We will." Reid said with confidence.

"He hasn't lawyered up yet, so if you are, you better get in there."

Derek flying through the door had stopped all movement and everyone's attention went to his arrival. He looked at the team and then through the window to the Italian man looking bored and annoyed.

Morgan threw his hand up toward the window in frustration. "Why are you not in there yet? We don't have time to waste, he knows where Prentiss is."

Hotch had no explanation and agreed that each second that passed was a painful reminder that it was running out, if it already had not. Garcia calling came at almost the right moment.

He held his phone out as the other agents circles around him. "You're on speaker."

Penelope's voice cracked in rushed excitement and anxiety. "Emily made a 911 call about 5 minutes ago."

"Do we have a location? Is she okay?" JJ blurted out from behind Spencer.

"She wasn't on the phone long enough to get anything other than a verification that it was her. I did try to pinpoint a general location, but cell phones are tricky."

"Okay, how general of a location?" Aaron asked.

"It is within a pretty large radius of an industrial area twelve miles outside of DC."

Reid listened to Garcia and looked back to Carbone. "I think I know how to narrow down more to where she could be."

"Yeah?" JJ asked in encouragement.

"Yeah," Spencer called back over his shoulder as he rushed out the door. He returned minutes later with a small pile of photographs.

Derek gave him a questioning look but he moved past and handed Rossi the photos.

"Show these to Carbone. He'll show us where she is."

Rossi looked at the series of areal photographs and silently agreed before entering the interrogation room. The team gathered wordlessly along the window waiting for a sign, a look, or movement that gave them the answer they were desperately searching for for.

Dave got right to it laying the first photo down in front of the man.

"What is this?" Carbone asked glaring up to his interrogator.

"Just some pictures I thought you'd like to look at to cure some of your boredom while you wait for your lawyer."

"Bullshit."

"Alright you got me." Rossi shrugged and leaned against the table then lifted his leg onto the chair. "I'm waiting for you to tell me where Agent Prentiss is."

"Who?"

"Now I call your bullshit." Rossi replied calmly placing another photo of industrial buildings. Carbone glanced at the image, but looked away un-amused.

"You're wasting your time, I don't know anything."

Dave set the last photo neatly on top the last. "I disagree."

Vincent looked at it and physically moved the photos away in a huff then crossed his arms before turning his head away. Rossi immediately looked to the window.

Derek didn't hesitate and charged into the interrogation room. He ignored Rossi's sudden hand on his chest that was put up to slow him down. He was done with the games and wanted Carbone to know it. He pushed Dave's arm to the side and leaned in close while putting his finger on the photo of the storage unit. "We've found her."

Carbone smirked and leaned back in chair. "All of her?" He asked and then cocked his head in arrogance; a silent challenge to Derek.

Fire flared in Derek's eyes and he no longer could hold the anger and emotions back. He lunged forward almost taking Vincent to the ground, but Hotch had charged in right behind him and he and Rossi had a hold on him before he assaulted the prisoner.

Derek stood up and shook the agents off him before he stormed out. Aaron was right on his heels. "You've got to keep your head."

"Give me a break, you heard him!"

Aaron continued, "We have a location, we need you in this to get her back. Don't let him get to you."

"Let's get going then!"

* * *

Emily stopped to rest briefly and get her bearings on where she was and needed to go. Time was running out to put distance between her and Marcello. She couldn't move fast and no doubt he was already on the hunt. She curled her fingers around the edge of the container and peered down the dark aisle. Her eyes followed the fence and saw she had made it to the intersection that led to the front gate. She felt some relief that it was open, but the relief turned to urgency, as she still had to get to it. Tuned in to any telling sounds of her pursuer and the use of the cold metal wall of the container as support she slowly began to limp her way towards freedom.

She came to an abrupt halt when she heard the scrape of something along the graveled ground and tilted her head to pinpoint its location. She held her breath and tightened her grip on the knife. She adjusted her stance to turn in the direction of the new noise attempting not to make any noise herself. She concentrated on the still air for another indication that Marcello might be closing in, but there was nothing. She remained still until she was absolutely sure he was not within reach of her.

A rustling and movement just beyond the fence caught Emily's full attention. She searched the darkness in front of her, but nothing revealed itself so she turned back to her immediate task of escape. The scraping sound returned and she was in the motion of circling back when hands grabbed her and jerked her violently sideways into the container. The collision stunned her briefly, but enough for Marcello to take control. In a flash he had his body in front of her and his forearm pressed with tremendous force against her neck. She felt the sudden release of the knife from her hand and in defense they came up but it was too late; she was being choked. The blood began to rush to her head and the edges of her sight were fading fast. He began to bend down for what she assumed was for the knife, and in a last effort she thrust her good knee in the direction of her assailant. She felt the damage it caused and he cursed her as he cried out in pain. His release of her was brief and time suspended as a brilliant and blinding pain enveloped her. When it was repeated again her mind could only go to the new agonizing sensation in her stomach. As she began to crumple to the ground she caught the flicker of the silver blade that was now tainted and dripping with her blood.

* * *

_As always thank you for reading! It does mean a lot. I love feedback if you have any thoughts or comments!_


	12. Chapter 12

_My muse has returned and hope she sticks around! Thank you for reading! If you get a chance leave a review, it really helps with motivation and gives me chance to see how the story is being perceived and a lot of times spark ideas._

_Happy reading!_

* * *

Marcello cupped his hand over his chin and tried to collect the blood that gravity caused to flow from his nose. As he got up and he looked to the intertwined forms moving in the darkness. He knew Tony would take care of their problem; he wanted to assess the damage done to his face and see if there was anything to take the edge off. He wasn't looking forward to being in pain the rest of the night with all the work he had to do.

He carefully reentered the small office and went directly to the bathroom. The cupboard of a room was nothing more than a toilet, sink and a splintered mirror. He clumsily felt for the light switch then immediately regretted the action when the single bulbs illumination assaulted his eyes. He closed them briefly to allow them to adjust slowly. When he was able to focus it was on his broken face in the cracked glass. His nose was already swollen and blood mixed with dirt smeared across his face. Anger began to bubble up and felt it tip further as he saw the blood that stained his shirt and pants. He was very aware of his vanity, and how his reflection was now a contradiction to his status quo. It was all adding up to make the night worse.

He grumbled his frustrations to himself as he turned the rusty faucet on. The pipes whined and shook with the water surging through them. It gurgled and sputtered as the air bubbles worked their way out. Once a solid stream appeared he washed his hands in the frigid water and then repeatedly splashed his throbbing face. Once satisfied the blood was removed he turned off the water and went in search for anything to kill the pain. He hastily rummaged through the doors of the desk, finding nothing but papers and half eaten candy bars. He sat heavily in the tattered and torn faux leather chair and let his arms rest on the wood. He remained still with his hands holding up his pounding head. The addition of the pain would make the work take longer, but his boss would not accept him putting off his job because he had a "headache." With how much trouble the woman had already given them he was already far behind schedule.

Releasing a heavy sigh he began to stand and his attention went to the mini fridge in the corner. He scrambled over and flung the door open tearing into the tiny freezer section. His hand scrapped the edges and only came up with minimal ice crystals that had collected on the walls. They melted before he could apply it to his agonizing injury. He cursed again, realizing now he was wasting time. He quickly stood up and smoothed out his once immaculate shirt and strolled to the door. He was somewhat surprised Tony had not already appeared victorious in disposing of their pest. He needed to get started and had no doubt about making Tony stay and help whether he wanted to or not.

He pushed the door open and stood tall at the top of the steps peering out into the darkness in search for Tony's large frame. He became curious to why he wasn't by the van, but then thought he might have already started moving the bodies to the workroom set up in the closest container. When he looked towards it, the doors were not ajar nor any light came from it. His confusion grew, as did his frustration. He brought his eyes back to where he had last seen Tony and squinted when he began to make out someone on the ground. He didn't want to believe that the unmoving mass was his friend and not the woman who should have been dead four times over. In a half run he made it to the body, and pooled in his own blood was the younger Italian man. Marcello could not comprehend how she could have accomplished killing him, and was beginning to believe they highly underestimated her.

He looked around for clues to her whereabouts and it did not take him long to find her tracks and see what direction she was headed. He knew there was really only one escape and that was to the gate. Something he was not going to allow. As he followed he saw that one leg was dragging slightly. She was limping. He smiled at the thought of her being injured. His hope rose to catching up to her and gaining the upper hand.

With the veil of night covering him it didn't take him long to find her. She was following the perimeter of the fence, so he followed her movement along the other end of the containers. He kept sight of her by keeping her in front of him and focusing on his movements being as silent as possible. When she stopped at the intersection of fence he knew her only option was to turn down. He took the opportunity to slide down the other side and close the distance to her. As he moved he thought of how he would kill her. He was never one for gunplay, but even a knife felt too humane for what she deserved. He had never felt the desire to kill but it flowed through him and the thought of watching the life leave her pushed him on.

Lost in thought he had not realized his focus on being stealth was hindered and was startled back to reality when he kicked a few pebbles that noisily bounced off each other. He froze and listened, worried he had given himself away. He needed the element of surprise and began to panic to how to regain it. Looking around he saw a fist size rock and decided to use it for misdirection. After picking it up he threw it over the fence, then listened for her movement. He could tell she was not far from him, and glanced around the corner to verify his estimation. There she stood in a defensive position with her back to him. He took the cue and didn't hesitate to attack.

He accelerated forward grabbing her by her shoulders and slamming her into the wall. His blitz attack worked and she was stunned, but he didn't stop. He saw the knife in her hand and threw his arm across he neck to hold her in place to retrieve the weapon. But she dropped it. He didn't see a need for it but remembered not to leave her with any options to fight back. He began to move slowly for it when a blinding pain exploded in his head. She had kneed him. He went from seeing flashes of white to pure red. He was lost in a fury and let his rage leave him with the thrusts of the knife. She gasped out in pain and immedielty weakened, her fight leaving her. He stepped back to regain himself. He felt his chest heaving with the adrenaline that flowed through him and watched her sink to the ground, no longer a threat. He could finish her in one swoop but was enjoying her writhe in pain. He would let her bleed out; it wouldn't be long. He did have to move her, but wasn't interested in carrying the dead weight. Then he remembered the van, it would make a quick and easy transport.

Marcello turned to walk away but paused and gave her another once over concerned she may be playing possum, but it was clear she was consumed in her own losing battle to care about him. He smiled to himself and jogged back to the van. He still had a long night and day ahead of him, but at least he'd get the job done. He climbed into the drivers seat and fired up the engine, but didn't bother with the lights as he crept forward. He stopped at the gate and then expertly performed a three-point turn to get the van in the position he desired. He caught his reflection in the rearview mirror and sighed at the blackening eyes that were forming.

He shrugged it off and began to reach for the handle when the door was forced open almost pulling him out with it. His start became fear as a gun entered his line of sight.

"FBI, don't move." The voice behind the barrel warned.

Marcello's surroundings came into focus and a wave of bodies swarmed around him. They flew in all directions. His stomach dropped, it was over.

"Where is she?" The voice asked.

He ignored it. They'd find her, but she was dead, he knew it.

"I asked you a question." Suddenly he was out of the seat and pinned against the van with a very angry black man inches from his face.

"Go to hell." He fired back.

The Agent's grip got tighter until a voice rang out. They found her. He was released briefly, but only to be taken up by someone else. He felt strangely calm, but only for a moment. Once Carbone caught wind of his failure he was a dead man. The flashing lights of the ambulance filled the sky as it pulled up. He tried to stop to watch, but was pressed forward. The only thing he had going for him was her death. One thing he had done right. The medics sprinted past and down the narrow path. They were in for a simple task, she was dead, he knew it.

* * *

Emily slowly gained focus, aware that she was alone, but more aware that her body was on fire, hurting from the inside out. All the pain she had ever been in didn't equate to what she was experiencing. She wanted to curl in on herself, anything to keep the pain at bay. Her mind shouted for her to get up to fight and continue to reach the gate. She started to move but the searing pain caused her to go limp and she rolled into the fence. She lain clutching her bleeding wound and found herself staring above her, her mind drifting. The sky became a vast blanket and the space around felt like it was closing in. A chill swept across her and she shivered with the cold. She realized that this was her end. She was going to bleed out on the hard ground nestled in a shallow grave between a fence and a metal wall. Marcello would come back and then she'd be cut up and disposed of, no one would know. Just as Carbone said, 'no body, no crime.'

The stars twinkled and blurred above her. She felt cold, and became colder as each seemingly eternal second passed. She felt herself fading. Even the pain became something hanging in the distance. The one acute feeling was the bone deep cold, it was all consuming. Voices and lights appeared around but she couldn't look. They were too far away. The stars seemed to come closer and she closed her eyes. She was cold and shivered again.

Emily slowly opened her eyes as she felt herself being jostled. There were unfamiliar voices directed at her. Faces she could not recognize, and felt it was too much effort to try. Then one came out of the darkness. A familiar song calling her name. She focused on it and let it bring her back. Then she saw his kind soft brown eyes.

His words were foreign but begging, and full of pain. She wanted to take his pain away, let him know it would be okay. She barely felt the movement and frantic activity around her. She remained focused on her friend, her only grounding rod.

She felt the gentle reassuring pressure he gave her from his warm hands. It was the warmth that she was searching for in the encompassing cold and she squeezed back with all the remaining strength she had.

"Don't…. Let…. Go." She forced out between fading breaths.

He moved in closer pulling her hand to his chest. "Then you don't either."

She clung to his words and allowed the new warmth to take her.

* * *

Doctor Andrea Moore was the top Trauma Surgeon at the hospital, the whole DC area to be exact, but the level one trauma center was her home. She took every case that was presented to her as serious as the last. She had been standing by in the ambulance bay when her recent patient was barreled through the doors. From the pre hospital care given and the relay of information of her current condition she knew the time frame was crucial. Upon physically seeing her Doctor Moore knew not to waste any time and get her into surgery. She gave out her orders and began to move with the gurney when the man that had been clinging to the woman's side stopped her. She had barley noticed him; all her focus had been on the brunette. She was pressed to get to the Operating Room, but felt his urgency and paused to see what he needed.

She looked him over. He was a well built good looking man, but what she noticed more was his deep set pain and worry that flooded his eyes.

"Can you save her?" He asked, his voice trying to rein in his emotions.

More than anything she dreaded that question and even the person asking it knew they were reaching for anything positive. She was a no nonsense person, one that was determined not to give false hope. She had made that mistake early in her career and it haunted her still. She could only shrug and be honest.

"I won't know anything until I see the damage done."

She knew her words did little good to settle his mind. He stopped walking with her and he disappeared into the crowd of blue FBI windbreakers that pulled him back.

She had dealt with knife penetrating wounds more than she would like to actually count, but none ever came out the same. Now scrubbed in and the initial incision made she was preparing to see the effect the blade had done, and more importantly to get the woman struggling on her table above water.

No sooner had she opened the cavity she was presented with what she had feared the most. Blood was pooling where it wasn't suppose to and her range of vision quickly vanished.

"I need more light." She called up as if the lighting could pierce the thick crimson liquid and she would easily find the cause of the bleeding.

"Keep suctioning!" She yelled to the young resident that trembled at her voice. "I'm losing visibility!"

"I am, but there's just a lot of blood, the suction can't keep up with the volume."

"Chad, get your hands in and start scooping, I need to find the source of the bleed if she is going to have a chance."

"Doctor Moore, her BP is falling. I'm not sure how much more she can take."

They were fighting a losing battle. They could not push the blood in fast enough. She needed to find where she was losing it, but time was against her.

"How many units in?"

"Two."

She turned her head to the younger doctor next to her, "How many units out?"

"Three."

"Damn it!"

It became clear to her that they were on damage control. It should have been a simple decision, but she didn't want to just pack up and hope to get her stable enough to have to go back in and risk the surgery once again. She wanted to find the laceration, stop the bleeding and save her life right then. She knew that keeping her open wasn't doing her any good either. Andrea wasn't a gambler but at that moment she felt like she was betting against the house.

"Alright," she said in defeat, "let's pack her up."

After washing up and changing her blood soaked scrubs Dr. Moore entered the ICU room of her one and only patient. She was prepared to have more come across her path but her focus was on the woman fighting for her life. She read her name on the chart, Emily Prentiss. She was more than aware to whom she was, she had seen the news, but none of that mattered. All that did was that she lived, and it was her job to make sure that happened.

She watched the nurse adjust the IV and then step back waiting patiently for her to speak. Andrea turned her attention back to the chart in front of her and ran through her orders.

"The liver is packed and the next twenty four hours are crucial and she needs to be monitored closely. Any changes you contact me immediately, do you understand?"

"Yes," The nurse nodded then looked out the door and shifted uncomfortably. It was obvious that she was holding back a question.

"What is it?"

"Umm, there is group of people waiting to hear any news on the patient."

"Are they family?"

"No, they are her colleagues, FBI agents."

"Doesn't sound like family to me. Let me know when family arrive and I will inform them of her status."

The nurse sighed and looked to the brunette in the bed. Andrea followed her eyes and became irritated at the woman in front of her. In a harsh whisper she caught her attention. "Would you spit it out, Rene!"

The woman jumped but spoke without hesitation. "Considering the circumstances don't you think it's fair to give them something? They have been in the family room since she came in and have not budged. Only getting up to see if there is any news."

Andrea finished scribbling across the chart. It was hard enough not to get emotionally attached to the patients, but it was inevitable in her job. Each one she lost and couldn't save took a piece of her with them. Speaking to family was also a part of the job and gradually became easier only because the emotions that get stirred up reduce enough to handle. This situation, however, felt different. She was already under her skin, a soul she personally became responsible for saving. The idea of telling the men and woman that fought in the trenches with Emily that she was holding on by a thread didn't seem fair. None of it did, but she knew that just like the doctors and nurses she battles with that if one of them goes down it's a personal break in the barrier of protection they fight to control.

She nodded and forced a smile to the nurse. "Okay, I'll go let them know. But this isn't a win for you breaking me."

"Thank you doctor."

With a deep breath she walked down the hall and approached the family room. Before she reached the door she closed her eyes to center herself and collect the millions of swirling thoughts. As she stood she visualized the large Oak that stretched its twisting arms across the backyard of her childhood home. The sun setting behind it created a magnificent silhouette and radiant rays of light that pierced through its dense leaves. She let the memory of the swing that her brother had tied to the strongest branch swaying in the breeze calm her mind.

There was no scientific model to follow for how everyone would react or the questions that would fly at her. She had to be blunt, never destroy hope but be honest and willing to give whatever information they may ask for.

She listened for voices and crowd of people she had expected by the way Rene spoke about them. You could hear a pin drop, and she began to believe that no one was there, that they had all given up and left. Maybe got some food or coffee. All the speculation stopped as she pushed open the door and the in unison six exhausted, physically and emotionally drained faces turned to her. Their eyes wide with worry and angst, their posture spoke of their doubts and fears.

She swallowed the emotions back down and tried to create the wall of separation again. She could not allow herself to get more attached then she already was. She had given worse news to families, and watched heart broken while she explained why she had not save their loved one. It almost felt like Emily needed to be a patient that she could be okay with losing, but the reality was that she wasn't. None of them were and she was kidding herself if she ever thought she could ever really objectify the human beings that crossed her table and under her surgical knife.

A tall dark haired gentleman was the first to stand and approach her and the others followed suit. No one spoke; they were waiting for her. The deep concern in their eyes bore into her was chipping away her resolve. She cleared her throat and looked down briefly.

"I'm going to be blunt, there is no other way around it. Ms. Prentiss' internal injuries from the knife wound were substantial. In surgery we were unsuccessful in locating the bleed." She felt the hearts dropping in the room and air became thicker and heavier, but she continued. "I made the decision to stop the surgery and let her rest to bring her blood level back up and stabilize more so that I can go back in and successfully locate the bleed and stop it."

"So, she's alive?" A loudly dressed blonde asked with hope hanging on the last word.

"We have her in ICU and she's being monitored very closely. The next twenty four hours are critical."

"Can we see her?"

She nodded. "You can't go into the room but there is a window to observe her, but I strongly suggest you prepare yourself."

"For what?" A young man that looked to young to be a FBI agent asked.

"There is a lot going on, she is on a ventilator to assist with her breathing, IV's of fluid, and machines monitoring her vitals."

The faces in front of her became more solemn in understanding and they silently filed past her. She followed them with her eyes the knot in her stomach growing bigger. The dark agent that had come in with Emily stopped in front of her.

"Realistically, what are her chances?"

He studied her intently as she responded. "If she makes it through the night and if I see an opportunity to go back in I will do everything I can to save her."

He tried to acknowledge her words but only dipped his head before shuffling out to catch up to the others.

She gave as much as she could with out shattering all hope, but somehow didn't feel she was doing anyone any good. She remained in the now empty room her arms wrapped around herself staring at the wall. Her thoughts went to the helpless feeling she just passed from herself to those people. The only outcome she wanted was out of her control and would be for the next excruciating day.

"Emily Prentiss, you better do your part so I can do mine." She whispered to herself before going to check on her patient.

* * *

Derek moved slowly towards the huddled group outside Emily's room. He was almost afraid to look in, he didn't want to see her weak and fragile and attached to machines keeping her alive.

He instead focused on Penelope who was seconds from cracking. He reached her in time to catch her from collapsing. He held her tight absorbing her sobs. He kept his gaze straight ahead. He saw the way each person's eyes changed when the realization of what they were seeing really hit. He found he could not console Garcia enough and JJ took it upon herself to escort her back to the isolation of the family room. Slowly one by one each member of the team tore themselves away from looking past the glass to the ghost in the room. Hotch did not make eye contact as he moved away, neither did Reid who was desperately holding his own breakdown back. Rossi was the only one to pause before walking away.

The man studied Derek and then placed a hand on his shoulder. "She's strong."

Morgan found that he couldn't respond and watched as Dave disappeared around the corner. He ran his hand over his head and turned to the window. He moved closer and let his arm rest on the frame above him and pressed his head into his forearm. He slowly absorbed the scene in front of him. This was not how it was all suppose to end. He had spent the last two weeks trying desperately to hold onto her and she was constantly slipping away. He needed her to reach back and strengthen her grip.

"Don't let go." He found himself saying out loud hoping she would hear him and come back to them.

* * *

_A little bit different chapter. I hope you liked it. _

_Thank you for reading! Please don't hesitate to let me know what you thought!_


	13. Chapter 13

_Hello patient readers! I hope you're all still with me! I am sooo sorry it has been so long since I posted last! Like I have said I will not abandon the story, it will be written! Please enjoy the next installment and don't forget to let me know your thoughts! _

_Happy Reading!_

* * *

Derek leaned against the coarse brick exterior wall of the hospital, letting the solid structure support his worn body. The sun was already piercing the darkness with streaks of light. Derek glanced at his watch; it was 6:00 AM. He sighed heavily and continued to stare unfocused as the light worked to dominate and now lit up the bottom half of the sky. He observed that there were a few remaining stars holding on and wondered if seeing the last flickering light could count as seeing the first and make a wish. He shook off the childish thought as he heard footsteps approaching him. He pushed off and directed himself to Doctor Moore who was strolling his way.

"Agent Morgan, what are you doing here so early?" She asked.

When he didn't answer she shook her head in understanding but not in approval. "Wearing yourself down is not going to help Emily in any way."

"I can't leave." He breathed out and looked back out past the sparse parking lot.

She extended him a large coffee and a smile.

He didn't take the offering and looked at her in confusion. "If you didn't know I was here why did you get me a coffee?"

The woman nodded her head towards the building. "I know this place well enough that there is always someone in need of a fresh cup."

Derek thanked her and looked towards the glass doors behind them. "I assume that by your casual manner you're not here for an emergency."

"Nope, just coming to check in on my favorite patient." She smiled and took a sip from her own hot beverage.

Derek tried to smile but worry continued to plague him. He still couldn't trust the promising words of the doctor, no matter how good she was.

The second surgery had been a success to stop the bleeding and Emily was making a turn for the better, yet he still felt control was too far out of his grasps. The whole situation had been a spiraling mess, and he hated seeing Emily sucked into its vortex. There was no quick fix right then; it was a waiting game that was moving at an excruciatingly slow pace.

Dr. Moore could see his apprehension and spoke gesturing for him to walk with her. "Emily is one of the strongest patients I have ever had. She has made incredible strides in the positive."

"I know, it just feels too early to breath a sigh of relief." He stated plainly.

"I can't take that away, or make any solid promises, but she needs your strength and not see your doubt."

He simply nodded his understanding. He stepped ahead of Andrea and pushed the glass doors open to allow her entrance. She acknowledged his courteous gesture and they walked without speaking another word the rest of the way to Emily's room.

Derek stood patiently out of the way as the doctor examined his friend. The two women spoke quietly to each other. When the doctor was not conversing with her, Emily had her tired eyes on him. He kept his strong for her, not showing the weakness and fear that consumed him.

He felt the knot is his stomach grow when the doctor turned away from the bed to leave. He should have felt relieved by the unconcerned look the prestigious surgeon held as she walked towards him, but he worried for so much more than Emily making it though the night anymore. He saw an uphill battle and worried how all of this was going to affect her life and what the future looked like.

Derek stepped to the side to reveal the doorway and allow the doctor to exit, but she paused briefly and looked up to him. She placed a strong hand on his shoulder then whispered to him as she moved away. "She needs you to be strong."

He remained rigid in his spot and let his eyes follow her as she left the room. He quickly swallowed her words and his doubt that he could be the strength Emily needed. He slowly let his eyes fall to the brunette in the bed before him. His now seemingly fragile friend, the one who only days earlier was barely holding onto life. He hated seeing her look so pale and weak. She would smack him for even thinking those words, and quickly reminded himself how much of a fighter she was. She was alive because she was too stubborn to lose the battle. That one thought gave him a flicker of hope for the better.

Tentatively he took steps towards her and slid the chair that was pressed against the wall to be next to the bed. As he sat down he saw her eyes following his every movement. He had not left her side the last few days, and this was first time she had been awake longer than a few minutes. He hoped for something more then their all too common wordless exchanges, but by Emily's drawn face and half lid eyes knew it was too much to expect.

"How're you doing?" He finally asked breaking the silence.

"Tired." She answered in a whisper.

"Do you want me to leave so you can sleep?"

Emily slowly shook her head and mouthed her answer.

Derek smiled slightly and settled more into the chair before lacing his fingers into hers. She attempted to smile back and closed her eyes. He could feel the tension leave her as her body relaxed into sleep. He watched her in contentment that she was no longer strapped down with tubes and machines keeping her alive. The hushed calm in the room began to take hold and his weary body drifted into a light sleep.

It wasn't long before a vibration in his pocket caused Derek to stir slowly. He blinked to adjust his eyes to the natural light that was creeping in past the shades and remember where he was. As he stretched his sore neck from the awkward sleeping position he remembered what woke him, but the phone had stopped. Before he could act it immediately started up again. He knew who it was and gently withdrew his hold from Emily's hoping not to disturb her. He froze when she stirred, but relaxed when her head lolled to the side and she resumed sleeping. Carefully he leaned back in the chair and wriggled his phone from his pocket answering it before he lost the caller a second time.

"JayJe," he whispered and stood to move away from the bed.

"_Derek, where are you?"_

He glanced back at Emily hoping she was still asleep, but her eyes were on him, curious to the phone call.

He smiled at her but turned. "With Emily."

"_Okay." _There was a pause._ "Are you coming?"_

"Yes. How much time do I have?"

"_About an hour."_

"I just need to shower and change, then I'll be by to pick you up."

"_Okay." _

JJ hesitated and he quietly waited for her to ask the question she had wanted to from the moment he answered the call.

"_How is she today?"_

"Better. The Doctor's positive about her progress."

He only received silence on the other end and Derek knew she wanted more information but he couldn't speak. That really was the best he could give. Did she want to hear how fragile she looked? Or how distant she felt even though she was right in front of him? He remained quiet and she took the cue and they both hung up.

He slowly turned back to face Emily, not wanting to tell her he was leaving. He didn't want to, he was afraid to. He wanted to sit by her until his friend fully returned to him. He feared if he left something would happen, his lack of control once again holding him hostage. He adjusted the chair again and took his place next to the bed. He pulled her hand into his. She quietly watched him, her eyes overflowing with questions.

"I have to leave for a little bit, but I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Where?"

"Sheila's funeral."

Emily nodded and relaxed her head back into the pillow. She closed her eyes not to sleep but to hide. Despite her effort a single rebellious tear broke through. It was small but revealed so much. Derek watched helplessly as gravity slowly led it down the contour of her cheek. It hung onto the edge of her jaw briefly before breaking loose and disappearing into the white cotton of the hospital gown.

When her eyes opened again she kept them away from his. He knew what she was thinking; she wanted to be at the funeral. Not only to say goodbye to her friend, but also to make sure Sheila got the burial and recognition she deserved. With all the heat pressing down on the Bureau they wanted to seal the truth up tight, put on a good show for PR purposes and move on. She knew it was out of her hands, and that made everything worse. Here she was fighting her own battle and still thinking of her friend, blaming herself.

"Emily." He tried but she refused to look at him. He spoke anyway knowing she was listening. "You made the difference."

Emily shook her head. When she finally looked to him he saw the sadness consuming her.

"Wasn't enough."

"It was more than enough." He kept her hand in his as he stood up. "You brought Sheila back."

Emily just stared at him. He could see she desperately wanted to believe him. He held his words hoping for more from her but the hovering silence was his answer. He slowly released his grip and set her hand back onto the bed. With great hesitation he began to take his leave.

"Derek," She called out weakly trying to grasp his attention again. When he turned back she forced out a _thank you_.

"Always." He said smiling as honestly as he could.

* * *

JJ, lost in her own thoughts followed Derek into the hospital and paused only when he stopped in front of the elevators. She found herself dazed, staring at the white plastic lid of her coffee. Her mind felt blank, but continued to be overloaded with emotions. She found herself on the edge and the slightest negative force would push her off. She pulled her head up when a gentle touch grazed her elbow.

"You okay?" Derek asked as he pressed the button for the elevator.

JJ looked back down and nodded her answer. She had not known Sheila, but the funeral had tugged at her in an unreal way. She couldn't help but put Emily in the coffin, the words spoken about the fiercely brave agent were about her friend. It took all the strength she had to not break down. All she wanted to do was get to the hospital to physically see Emily and prove all her unruly thoughts wrong. She didn't believe Morgan's reassuring words, and she knew he was feeling the same way.

There were not a lot of people at the funeral that had actually known Sheila Winters. It was a more of a representation of the Bureau to look good for the press that had run wild with the story. JJ hated the fake feeling that exuded from the suits and brass that pretended to care about the woman who gave her life to make a difference.

It was almost laughable how quickly the view changed when the image was altered. But it wasn't something to find humor in; everyone had seemed too content at letting Sheila drift into obscurity for the sake of a case. Everyone except Emily, who was now paying for doing what was right.

JJ had not realized she had boarded the elevator, pressed the button, or even felt the movement of the box as it was pulled upward. She was on autopilot. The only thing that jerked her back to reality was the dinging indicating they had reached their destination and the doors began to part.

She watched Derek step out, but she felt frozen in place. She wanted to shake off the feeling of dread she had. She knew Emily was alive, and that the prognosis was encouraging, yet, she couldn't fight the doubt and more than anything wanted everything to be back to normal.

"Jayje?" Derek's voice jolted her and in a start moved forward before the doors could close on her.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, Derek." She answered quickly.

He shook his head. "It's okay if you're not."

"I know. It's just a lot right now."

"It is." He agreed and wrapped his arm across her shoulders and gently pulled her into him. The supportive hug was enough at the moment to help her continue towards Emily's room.

A man that rose from a seat and blocked the two agents path halted their forward movement. Derek eyed him in curiosity, but JJ was the first to speak.

"Mr. Winters?"

There Sheila's brother stood looking even more disheveled and lost than he had only an hour earlier. His dress shirt was un-tucked and tie undone, barely hanging on around his neck. His short-cropped hair no longer held style and looked like he had continually run his hands through it sending the small wavy strands in all directions.

JJ had not seen or met him prior, but knew whom he was by Garcia sending an image before they left for the funeral. Although, she could have picked him out of the crowd, he was the only one who was legitimately upset that Sheila was gone.

He washed his hands nervously in front of him. "May I speak to you for a moment?" He asked looking straight to JJ.

She glanced to Derek who seemed to stand taller next to her, ready to step in if necessary. She really wasn't interested in having any sort of conversation with anyone other than Emily, but the grief exuding from Eric held her in front of him. When she nodded her acceptance Morgan quickly excused himself.

"What can I do for you?" She asked watching Derek disappear past the doorway of the room.

"I saw you at the funeral and-" He stopped and looked behind him.

JJ curiosity piqued at the man's behavior, but had to remind herself that his sister had just died. She remained patient and waited for him to continue with what he wanted to say.

He swallowed and looked back to her. "Thank you for going."

"Of course. I'm so sorry for your loss."

He nodded and looked down again. "You didn't have to, go, I mean. It's not like you knew her. Then again I don't know if anyone really knew her."

JJ continued to try and be supportive. "She deserved to be recognized, and she was important to Emily, so that makes her important to us."

He spoke as if he had not heard her word, his mind on something bigger. "It's been a really long time since I had seen or talked to her. Now any chance to make amends is gone."

"I'm sure Sheila didn't hold anything against you." JJ said, still unsure what he needed to hear. She didn't know what relationship he and his sister had, but she had enough experience with grieving people to know to he was feeling guilty about their unresolved issues. She just didn't know how she would be able to help.

"I came to see Emily, but-" The man stopped, licked his lips and looked away.

"Okay?" JJ asked hoping he'd give her a little more information to his hesitation. Her only clue to the past he and Emily had was a mention to Agent Gordon that their last encounter had not been pleasant. She thought he was feeling the needed to make an effort to fix whatever had happened.

"I'm sorry, I'm keeping you." He said suddenly stepping to the side.

JJ remained in her spot even though she wanted to let him figure whatever he was trying to resolve on his own. He wasn't giving her much besides his obvious unease and it began to wear on her. She watched him shift his weight and fidget with his hands.

"Do you think I should just leave?" He blurted out stepping back in front of her.

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"Emily," he continued, "she won't want to see me. "

"That I can't tell you, but I doubt that's true."

He laughed slightly at her statement, but remained agitated and uncomfortable. She began to really want to know the two's history. She knew it wouldn't come from Emily. She held her privacy and past tightly to her chest, and really it wasn't her place to pry. But, something had happened and it was clearly still an unhealed wound.

She eyed him carefully, her impatience beginning to show. "I'm sorry Mr. Winters, I'm not sure what do you want from me."

"I don't know, you're her friend, what do you think?"

JJ patience was now at it's end and she drew in a small breath to keep her composure and spoke softly. "Honestly, Mr. Winters I'm not sure what you want me to say. I can't speak for Emily, but she has been through quite a traumatic event. If you think you will be a positive force in the room then go in, otherwise wait. She needs support and love surrounding her right now."

He only nodded a response. He ran a shaky hand through his hair and took a seat in the chair he had occupied earlier. He held his head in his hands, no longer attempted any form of contact. JJ was even more confused at the man's actions. A part of her wondered what he would do, but at the moment she was more concerned about how Emily was. Seeing he had disengaged she silently excused herself and hurried into the room.

She found Derek near the door quietly texting on his phone. Garcia sat next to the bed focused on a tablet. One had holding the device, the other holding Emily's hand creating small circles with her thumb. Spencer stood against the wall, a few feet behind the Analyst staring at Emily as she slept. The scene in front of her was not one she had wanted to see. She wanted to have a conversation with her friend, not wait for her to wake and force acknowledgment of them being there. It all began to scare her. It had become a cycle of anticipation and let down. She needed something more solid, but by the look in Derek's eyes today wasn't that day.

"What did he want?" Derek whispered bringing her to his attention.

"I'm not entirely sure," she shrugged, "how is she?"

"The same, I guess."

"I need something better than that."

Derek sighed and looked across to the room's main occupant. "Me too."

* * *

Dave stood on the outskirts of the bullpen stirring his coffee taking in the unnatural silence that surrounded him. Of course the space wasn't empty, people milled around, spoke on phones busy doing their jobs. The the hollow feeling that was consuming him was of who was missing from the days typical activity.

His eyes drifted from Emily's vacant desk when movement in the Unit Chief's office caught his attention. He wasn't surprised to see Hotch there. As much as Dave knew the man wanted to go see Emily he was busy tightening the noose on Carbone and all those involved. Dave was on the same page as Aaron; the hospital was not the place he would feel he was doing any good.

The team was dealing with the events in their own ways, and had been on a continual cycle of visitors to the brunette. No one really spoke; there was nothing to say. Every minute of the last week was consumed with an urgency that took priority over everything else. Now with some resolution in sight the wheel seemed to slow to a more manageable rate, but didn't take away the remaining worry of what that outcome would really be.

He found himself outside the office and rapped lightly but didn't wait for a response before pushing the door fully open to enter. Aaron sat rigid in his chair engaged in an intense conversation on the phone. He quickly eyed his visitor but dipped his head to focus more on the person on the other end.

Dave sipped his coffee and moved closer to the desk. He felt the thick tension exuding from Hotch and became more intrigued to the phone call. Aaron's sharp words and then deep silence began to concern Dave and felt more impatient to find out what was happening. With an abrupt goodbye Aaron slammed the receiver down.

"What's going on Aaron?"

The Unit Chief's head dropped in frustration. "Marcello has been found dead in his cell, at the moment they are saying suicide, but-"

The news should not have been anything surprising. What started as a rescue operation had turned into something bigger. The scene at the storage site was eye opening, and Marcello's role in it all was a hanging question. The set up that they found in one of the containers painted a clear and disturbing picture. If Emily had not put up fight he didn't know how much worse it would have been. The thought of arriving there any later and barging in as the man chopped up his friend invaded his mind. It took a lot of mental strength to shake the possible images. Garcia had been sent to a task of finding missing persons linked to the crime family and they were working on connecting the dots to how many souls had been disposed. Marcello was going to be the one to tell them, they were going to make sure, but now once again their efforts were halted.

"What are you thinking?" Dave asked setting his cup down on the desk. "Do you think Carbone's cleaning house?"

"Could be." He answered as he picked the receiver back up and dialed.

When the other end was picked up Aaron spoke quickly. "Morgan, are you still with Emily?"

Dave watched Aaron's brow narrow further, his head shaking. "I need you to go back. Alert security, no one but the team, and required medical staff may enter her room." He paused to listen to Derek's response. "I'll explain when I get there."

"Do you really think he would go after her?" Dave asked stepping back preparing to leave with him.

Before the phone was settled Aaron was standing and walking around the desk. "I'm not taking any chances."

* * *

_Thank you so much for reading! I hope it still has interest. Drop me a line and let me know! _


	14. Chapter 14

_Your patience with me, and this story is very much appreciated! I'm working hard to get it written, but I also want to make it worth reading. _

_Happy Reading!_

* * *

The all too familiar darkness encompassed Emily. She knew where she was and desperately tried to convince her mind to leave, or to at least change the scene. But the torture continued to play out like a terribly plotted horror movie. She knew the ending, and each time she entered the dark ominous alley it only seemed to become worse. The buildings rose on either side of her like beasts closing in on their prey. She felt claustrophobic and the urge to escape her enclosing surroundings pushed her forward. She only stopped when the feeling of dread shot down her spine. Something scraped the crumbling brick to her right before it grazed her shoulder. She whirled around with the touch, but there wasn't anyone or anything, just the abyss of emptiness that extended behind her. She didn't want to continue, she wanted to leave, to somehow stop the unnecessary cruelty and wake up. A shadow flashed in her peripheral and with the fear she lengthened her stride away from the ever growing evil.

A light flickering on in the distance halted her movement. Bathed in the faded light from the unseen fixture was an all too familiar body. Emily knew who it was, and her heart ached at its reality. There she lay, face up on the filthy cement. Her wide emerald green eyes stared slightly upward and the dark blood that trickled down the contour of her face stained her once ivory skin. Emily felt her stomach recoil again.

When she took another step forward a sharp pain bent her in two. She gripped her wound and the blood seeped through her intertwined fingers. The pain rippled through her overtaking any thought and progress. She wanted to get to her friend, and with the simple thought she was suddenly over her. In the realization Emily tried to stand and call for help, but the pain hammered with more force and she couldn't move.

Emily felt him before she saw him. He towered over her, his shadow enveloping hers. Panic knotted in her belly. She couldn't get away anymore. She caught the glint of the already blood tainted blade as it arched towards her.

A scream caught in Emily's throat as she bolted upright. Her pulse quickened and a piercing pain shocked through her abdomen. She hunched over and tried to breath through as it cleared. After the initial shockwave faded the ever-present throbbing was left in its wake. She sucked in a deep shaky breath to try and relax, but the twisted sheets confined her. She tried to struggle out of them. Her knee strongly protested the frantic movement, but she refused to acknowledge it. With all the focus on the life threatening wounds, her knee injury took a back seat. Yet, it was persistent to remind her it was still there.

Giving up and she lowered back against the pillows and inclined hospital bed. The frenzied action stole the minimal energy she had, and immediately felt the fatigue it caused. She couldn't give in to it knowing what lay behind her eyes. She looked around and slowly registered the shadowed forms of the hospital room. It wasn't night, she could tell by the outline of light fighting to get in around the window. She was somewhat surprised that no one was in the room. From the moment she had opened her eyes and found herself in the hospital, someone, if not the entire team, had been taking vigil. She had attempted whole-heartedly to engage but her body and weary mind refused her. She saw the frustration and pain in their eyes, but she could do nothing to reassure then. She was more than aware she should have been dead. She saw it every time she looked at her friends, who tried desperately to hide behind false strength.

Her solitude was interrupted when a figure entered the doorway. It wasn't an immediately familiar silhouette, but it didn't take long for her eyes to adjust to the face and recognize Eric. He stood between the hall and room almost in contemplation of running and not entering.

All Emily had in her to do was smile and quietly acknowledge him. It seemed to be enough for him to enter. He didn't speak but his silence was overrun by the fact he couldn't seem to stand still. He continually fidgeted and nervously paced at the end of the bed.

"Are you okay?" He finally asked running his hand through his wavy hair.

She nodded, unable to find her voice.

"This is so hard for me, Emily."

She watched him still unable speak. She was acutely aware that the pain medication had worn off to the point that the constant dull ache was tipping to a sharp consuming pain. It was taking her concentration away from the man in front of her.

He cleared his throat. "I've been so messed up my whole life, and know I haven't been the easiest person to handle. Sheila dealt with a lot with me but-" He stopped short and turned away scrubbing his face with his hands.

"Eric, please sit down." Emily forced out in hopes he'd be still enough so her own anxiety wouldn't rise to his level.

Eric only shook his head and once again ran his hand through his hair. He was distraught and it was beginning to wear off onto Emily. He was exhausting her even more than she already was. Her focus was waning, her mind not fully taking in what he was saying. Her eyes felt heavy, but the pain and his overpowering energy held her present.

"Was Sheila's life really a lie?" He blurted out, pausing long enough to make eye contact. "I'm so confused. I don't understand."

"What?" Emily asked, trying desperately to comprehend what he was saying.

"What did I do to her to create such a deep lie?" He started pacing again.

Emily's mind wouldn't let her digest the information properly. His movements and agitation were more distracting.

"What are you talking about?"

Derek storming into the room abruptly ended the one sided conversation.

Derek looked quickly from Emily to Eric. "I'm sorry Mr. Winters you're going to have to leave."

"What? Why?"

With a slight gesture Derek began to lead Eric out of the room. He answered his question in a hushed whisper as to not allow Emily to hear.

"We can only have team members or medical staff in her room right now."

"Why? I don't understand."

"It's not really for you to understand, it's merely a precaution at this time." Derek answered in a matter of fact tone.

"Is she in danger? You know I wouldn't hurt her, I just wanted to speak to her and make sure she's okay."

Derek shook his head, "I didn't say that you were a danger to her. Like I said it's a precaution, please respect that."

Eric eyed the man and took one last glance to Emily who was trying to follow what was happening but seemed distracted. He had not noticed how much more pale her face had become since he had entered, and her eyes read a new level of misery that she was trying unsuccessfully to cover.

Knowing he could not resist the request he gave a curt nod to the dark agent and swiftly left. He left out of respect, but was highly unsatisfied with the current out come.

Derek watched the flustered man leave, curious to his visit but didn't give it much thought and turned back into the room. He looked to Emily. Her eyes were sealed tight and her expression was clouded with agony.

"Are you okay?" He asked and took a step towards her unsure what to do. "Do you need something?"

Her lids parted slightly, enough for eye contact but the only response she could give was a nod. Derek didn't hesitate to move back out and call someone in to help.

"Everything okay?" The nurse asked as she broke through the doorframe and headed straight to Emily not caring for a response from Derek.

"Are you in pain?" She asked checking her vitals and skimming quickly through the medical chart.

Emily swallowed and nodded again. She slowly closed her eyes and they remained shut a little too long for Derek's liking.

"I can help you with that." She smiled hoping to ease the heavy distress that filled the room. She left briefly and returned to administer the medication.

"Is she okay?" Derek asked.

The nurse nodded. "There was a dosage missed in the shift change. I'll make sure this won't happen again."

Somewhat satisfied with the answer he turned back to the brunette. She had continued to keep her eyes closed in an attempt to control her obvious discomfort. Derek wanted to stay but he had a task to complete. He needed to alert security and run over Hotch's orders with them and the medical staff. His top priority at the moment was Emily's safety. He didn't know what Hotch had discovered, but at that point he was not letting anyone near his friend.

Emily saw Derek whisk Eric away and after the nurse left the room filled with the quiet she woke to. Her mind however refused to oblige to the silence, it whirled at what had just happened. Her body's distraught condition overtook any chance to understand the point or meaning of Eric's visit. As the pain medication finally took hold she found herself standing back in the dark ominous alley.

* * *

Aaron drove with urgency, but was on autopilot. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, memories, and conversations. He wanted to believe that with Carbone in custody that Emily was finally safe. Yet, his reach extended far beyond the steel bars of prison. They had arrived within seconds to save her, and now he once again felt that her safety was threatened.

He knew he had stopped at lights, merge with traffic but none of it registered until he was pulling into the parking lot of the hospital. He became more agitated as he weaved up and down the aisles looking for an open spot. More people in the hospital meant more potential unsubs, or even bystanders. He would shut the whole hospital down if he could, but he had no evidence or real indication that Carbone had any plans to try and _silence _Emily. He just wasn't about to take any chances.

His deepest fear was that Carbone's hold on Emily would never be released. What they had discovered at the storage site was the tip of the iceberg. No one knew what Emily could have seen and all the possibilities put a target on her.

Once parked Aaron moved swiftly to get inside and get to Emily's floor. As he emerged from the elevator he saw the team circled in a tight group outside her room. He pulled up fast looking straight to Derek.

"How's she doing?"

He shrugged, "better, I guess. What's going on, Hotch?"

Taking a step back he quickly ran through the information he had received on Marcello, and why he felt the precautions were necessary. The others nodded their understanding and agreement.

"So, where's Dave?" JJ asked looking behind Hotch as if he would just appear.

"He'll be here shortly." He answered and then looked to Derek. "You alerted security, and spoke to the medical staff?"

Derek nodded but JJ spoke up before he could. "We'll have two officers rotating shifts outside her room ever five hours."

Aaron nodded. He wasn't completely convinced it was enough and more than willing to stay to add his own security. He could see in Derek's eyes he felt the same way.

JJ cleared her throat and drew everyone's attention. "I hate to be the one to ask, but how do we know that if Carbone's going to do anything it would be now? And how do we even know he would chance such a thing? There has to be another way to guarantee she is safe and not be a continual guessing game."

"There is." A familiar voice reassured from behind the group.

The four people turned to face Dave who was stopped short a few feet before them. No one spoke curious to what the Senior Profiler had to say.

"I just had a little visit with Vincent, and there will be no retaliation or efforts against Emily."

"How can that be, Emily surviving opened up a whole new layer to the investigation?" Reid questioned.

"I can guarantee that he has more than enough to deal with."

"You didn't answer the question." JJ pushed.

"You just have to trust me. I wouldn't walk in here confident if I weren't sure. I have no desire for Emily's life to be in danger any more than anyone else."

"I think we should still keep the tighter security until Emily gets out of the hospital then reevaluate it then." Derek pressed looking to Aaron for support.

"I agree." Aaron said tightly. He knew Rossi would not bluff in such a serious matter. He wanted to believe that Carbone would keep his end of whatever deal was struck between the two men. The team hesitantly separated most of them going into Emily's room to sit or stand around her bed like they had for days. Aaron hung back but continued his own vigil. He didn't like seeing her in her current state, and it made being there hard. He figured people read it as him not caring but he cared more than he would admit. In the end of it all he felt like he had somehow failed her. How had he missed such a serious threat? It now seemed so blatantly clear. He knew Derek was fighting the same battle.

"So what really went down?" Aaron whispered to Dave as he stood quietly next to him.

"It's an Italian thing." He answered plainly.

Aaron eyed the man not fully convinced.

"He's got enough on his plate, and it's in his best interest to keep it a one course meal." Still seeing the doubt Dave continued. "He has not felt true wrath until he's felt mine. He's a smart man and will heed the warning."

Aaron had to trust that Dave knew what he was doing. There only true concern was Emily at that point. They were a wall to protect her and he was going to make sure all points continued to be covered.

* * *

Eric threaded the key through the knob and once successfully unlocked he pushed through the door. The soft glow of the light that illuminated the entry way greeted him. He ignored its warm radiance and took large steps forward in an attempt to distance himself from it. He tossed his keys to the half circled table that ran along the side of the stairs, ignoring the clatter they made as they hit the wall and settled on the polished wood. As he moved forward he released a long breath in a feeble attempt to put all the strands of his unruly emotions together.

Eric bypassed the light switch and continued along smoothly through the dim light. Pausing at the doorway that led to the sitting room he stood in a silent debate clutching the edge of the frame. With the decision quickly made he stepped across the room to the bar. Moving around it he opened the cabinet and reached deeply to retrieve the almost full bottle of Makers Mark. From another cabinet he found a glass and with both in hand he moved to the sofas that faced the fireplace. For a moment he thought of starting a fire, but that seemed to be more effort than he really cared for. He deposited both of the occupants in his hands on the coffee table and up clicked on the antique Tiffany lamp. He then slowly lowered himself onto the edge of the bare couch and popped the bottle's top. After pouring himself a generous measure he set the bottle down and stared at the amber liquid as its small waves calmed in the glass. He didn't drink; instead he ran his thumb absent-mindedly around the rim and let his eyes drift and become unfocused. He hadn't touched alcohol or any substance for years. He had gained some control of his life, putting all his focus on a successful career, but now he was on the edge again.

He couldn't help but think about his sister. She was the last link to his past, or any real sense of family. Now she too was taken from him. He continued to be plagued by a truth he didn't want to believe. That the woman he thought he knew had another life. One he couldn't grasp. He was only getting bits a pieces.

Once he had cleaned up and started making his life a positive one he had gone searching for her. His last contact information he had was with the Bureau, but was quickly informed that she had left the FBI. She had basically vanished and he immediately assumed she had done so to avoid him.

Then with her murder it came out that she still was an agent, but not before more lies to cover her murder were told. He should have been relieved to the revelation but it only sparked more questions. What other things had she and others kept from him?

The cycle of questions only fueled his anxiety more. He felt himself begin to give in to all the emotions he had tried to bury for so long. As they erupted forward all of his coping skills became obsolete. In a sudden fury of he sprang off the cushion and threw the glass towards the fireplace shattering it into pieces. As he watched the debris and liquid settle he attempted to gain control of his now rapid breathing.

He couldn't fight the thought that maybe Emily was a key to everything. She was the closest person to Sheila, closer than he ever was. She must know her secrets; after all she almost died protecting them. Agent Gordon had told him the two were having dinner the night Sheila was killed. Even after she made herself disappear from his life she continued to keep close contact with Emily. He couldn't understand why she had chosen to keep Emily in her life and not him. He knew he was not easy to handle, and she had done her best to be patient, but to cut him out completely and with a lie hurt deeply. There were too many questions that she would never be able to answer for him. He needed to see Emily again and bring all the deceit to an end once and for all.

* * *

___Thank you for reading! _

_I appreciate you taking a moment to give me your opinion and impression of the story!_

_The next chapter is almost done, so the wait will not be long!_


	15. Chapter 15

_I had it done and was going to wait another day or so, but I thought I've made you wonderful readers wait too long for my other chapters. So here ya go!_

_Happy Reading!_

* * *

Penelope led the small group forward. A few doors down from Emily's apartment she halted and turned.

"Close your eyes."

Emily stopped walking and stared down her friend. "I'm not closing my eyes, Garcia."

"Indulge me please." The Analyst begged.

Derek nudged Emily slightly to continue and helped guide her. "You wouldn't wear the blindfold," he whispered, "just do this one thing for her."

Emily was tired, in pain and really not interested in childish games. She wanted to get to her apartment, soak in her bathtub, and sleep in her own bed. At that thought it suddenly hit her that she didn't have a bed anymore, or anything for that matter. The images of how her home had looked the last time she had seen it filtered through her mind. The destruction of her home was such a personal violation and began to wonder if she could ever really feel safe there. But, she wasn't about to let fear or anyone take anymore away from her.

Garcia's excitement to get her there suddenly made perfect sense. Emily had been so occupied; her home wasn't a priority to think about. Knowing the surprise was one thing, but she was still confused to what she could have done besides clean up the mess. The couch had no useable cushions and her pillows and mattresses' were gutted as well. She was lucky if she had a single plate or glass to her name. The last she had seen was shards of them across her kitchen floor. She couldn't imagine that the place would ever look the same again. Building it up again would take time, but in her current state it would be a slow process. At that point she would accept what she had, and not having to worry about cleaning up was a huge weight off her.

When they stopped outside the door Penelope threw her hands to her hips. "Close them!"

Emily straightened a little taller and sighed. She gave her friend one last disapproving glance before she let her lids fall closed. She heard the bolt release as the key was insert and twisted. The knob squeaked and door made a whooshing sound as it swung inward.

A gentle hand on the small of her back was her cue to begin to take steps inside. She had not moved far before Garcia spoke.

"Okay love, you can open them!"

Emily slowly opened her eyes unsure what she would see. As she took in her surroundings she stood shocked and overwhelmed. It looked as though nothing had even occurred. The place sparkled with the clean organization that she had always kept it. She looked to the kitchen and past its cleanliness saw that the drawers and cabinet doors were repainted and tightly secured and closed. Seeing where she was looking Penelope glided into the space and opened each door revealing new sets of plates and bowls along with mugs and all different size and type of glasses from tumblers to wine.

Her eyes moved beyond to the living room where the couch had been reupholstered and new pillows adorned it.

"How?" Emily asked, the word catching in her throat.

"That's none of you business, just accept the gift."

"I'd love to Pen," Emily said shaking her head, "but all this costs a lot of money. Money I know you don't have."

"You need your rest," Garcia said ignoring the direction of the conversation.

Emily looked to Derek who just shrugged indicating his stance to stay out of it.

Emily slowly moved to the stairs and peered up them, not sure she wanted to see her room. She shuddered at the thought of someone picking up her things, but even more all that made up her personal life had been strewn about like ticker tape after a big parade. It made her feel more exposed than she had the last three weeks. She compressed her lips tightly and continued to stare up the uncarpeted stairs. She fought to control her emotional response as she continued to imagine her friends or even worse strangers sifting through her rubble. She knew she was strong, tough and intelligent, but this ordeal had taken its toll.

"Do you want to go up?" Derek asked gently coming up beside her. He held his hand out ready to assist her.

"I do, but I can manage." She said looking to Derek then to avoid his questioning eyes she turned to Penelope. "I really can't thank you enough."

"My pleasure!" She glowed, but became serious for a moment. "Don't worry, JJ and I are the only ones that picked up your room, we wouldn't allow anyone else in until we were done."

Emily felt somewhat relieved at the statement. She appreciated her friend's careful nature. They knew how hard she worked to keep her life past and present private. It had been exposed and there was nothing she could do about it now except recover the best she could. She did finally accept Morgan's assistance up the stairs but once settled on the landing she encouraged them to leave, but didn't fight Derek on his desire to stand guard. He still didn't believe she was safe from Carbone. She was the only one that trusted Dave's insistence that he was not a threat anymore. But for Derek's peace of mind she would let him do what he felt like he needed to.

More than anything she wanted to let her bed absorb her exhausted frame and fall into a nightmare free sleep. She knew better than to hope such a thing but moved to her bedroom with that one thought pushing her forward.

* * *

Eric could pinpoint the single moment his shiny, love bursting from the seams family had been sucked into the spiraling and twisting vortex of hell. In a few hour period lives changed, and not just a subtle change but a flip your life upside down and never recover change. It was a night he would spend the rest of his life trying to hide from and many times thought to just end his own misery. Even with the rope in hand or loaded gun on the side table of the grungy roach infested motel room he couldn't do it. He conceded to believe his true punishment would be the guilt and his tormented mind.

That warm summer night had begun with a childish argument with his sister. She was so insistent that he didn't go and ruin her night out. She had always been so accommodating to let him tag along but that night was different. She was mean, saying cruel things in the hope he wouldn't want to join them. Having enough their parents took her side and she trotted off victoriously to get into unknown trouble. Annoyed at everyone he refused dinner and retreated as fast as he could to his room and lay in the dark. He stared for what felt like hours at the shadows that were created by the branches dancing through the streetlight outside his window. His eyes had become heavy but his stomach twisted in hunger keeping his attention.

Unable to fight his need for food, he rolled off his bed and let his feet fall silently to the floor. His stomach grumbled again. He hoped he could sneak in and out of the kitchen. With any luck he'd go unseen. On light feet he took strides to the room's exit.

With sweating hands he gripped the metal knob and twisted. He held his breath when the click seemed to echo through the house. When no one emerged he released the air from his lungs with a jagged uneasy breath. The hinges squeaked as he slowly cracked the door open and cautiously peered out into the dark hallway. The light of the living room was still on and his dad was talking, his words released in a smooth cadence. His dad's voice had filtered steadily closer as he staggered into the kitchen. Eric didn't like that his dad had begun drinking heavily, almost every night now. Eric listened intently. He heard the freezer door open and the sound of his dad's calloused hands rustle the ice cubes before dropping into the empty tumbler with a clattering clink. The glug of the liquid sloshing into the glass echoed in his mind and made his stomach turn, almost to the point of abandoning his mission for food, but he knew it would pass and the hunger was at the top of his mind.

That was when he heard the other voice. An unfamiliar one, he couldn't hear the words but the tone was dark and almost frightening. He waited like a statue in the hall for his dad to cut the kitchen's light and return to the living room. When the glow from his desired destination vanished he was surprised by the unusual silence. He hoped that whomever was there had decided to leave, he didn't like the sound of the conversation. He, however, had no clue how wrong he was. With socked feet he tiptoed down the hall and stepped from the worn carpet to the slick floor of the kitchen. He ignored the switch; it would only bring attention to him. With care he opened the fridge door the light making him squint. He blinked blankly at the minimal contents within. He didn't have time to make a sandwich, but seemed to be his only option. Juggling condiments he silently moved to the counter to pull the bread out. Finding two useable slices he laid out his ingredients. Perfectly set up for a quick assembly he made the quick decision not using a utensil to add his mayonnaise and mustard. It would just add potential noise and alert of his presence. Silently he twisted the cap and dipped his finger into the empty jar running it along the edge for the tiniest amount.

A sudden crack and scream from his mother sent ice cycles down Eric's spine. She tore into the kitchen flipping the light switch. Pure fear was on her face. When she saw him she scooped him in her arms and half carried half pushed him back to his room.

She closed the door and locked it before kneeling down to his level and pulled him into a hug. She held him as if it was the last time she ever would. He squeezed back, the fear too real to grasp. He wanted to pull away and see her eyes, to see that everything was going to be okay, but she held him tighter and whispered in his ear.

"I love you Eric, I love you and your sister more than life. Now, you need to listen to me. Climb out the window and run, run until you get to the neighbors."

"Come with me." He begged, trying desperately not to cry.

"I'm right behind you, love, but you're smaller and can hide easier. He doesn't know you're here." She looked behind her then spoke with more urgency. "You have to go! Don't look back, just run!"

Eric couldn't move, but the gentle push from his mother got his attention. He felt the hot tears that ran down her face and the pride in her eyes as she looked at him. She nodded to the window again. He obeyed and began to climb out, he was almost free when the door crashed open and a monster filled the doorway. The scream that erupted from his mother's throat was quickly silenced as the man raised his arm and a flash and crack echoed through the room. Eric covered his mouth to muffle his uncontrolled verbal response to the horror of what he had just seen.

The shadow overtook her and they disappeared into the other room. Eric turned to run just like his mother had told him to, but the need to go back inside overwhelmed him. He needed to protect her, to try to save her. The distance to the neighbors was too far to do any good. He reached back onto the windowsill and climbed back in careful not to make a sound. He remained still for what felt like an eternity. He moved when there was only silence through the house. There were no more struggling tears, or cries of pain. He swallowed his stomach enough to dare to move out of his room and into the heart of the house.

Tucked tight into the doorframe he forced his eyes to focus, but all he saw was red. It was like paint thrown around like in a painting he had seen in his art books. He had never understood the point of them and didn't like how it looked on the walls. First he went to his father, who was face down on the kitchen floor, swimming in blood. Eric felt his stomach take a dive and quickly found himself hunched by the dining table dry heaving.

Fear continued to twist through him as he recovered himself. Shaking uncontrollably he rose. Carefully he walked around broken glass and pooling blood to make his way back to his mother. He held her, blanketing himself more in the sticky and thick liquid. He begged and pleaded for her to breath, but no matter how much he cried her chest never rose. The lack of light in the room began to scare him and he jolted to a standing position and sprinted through the house flipping on every light. He followed the trail of blood from his room back to where his mother was and pushed himself into the corner. He remained there clutching his knees to his chest waiting for Sheila to return and take the pain away. It all became too much and at that moment he closed his mind and hid within himself.

All of the woman in his life had been taken away in cruel and lingering ways. The rage that had built up inside him could only be stifled for so long before the remaining ambers were given the oxygen needed to flare into a roaring fire. The pain would never go away. No matter how he tried it hovered on the surface and threatened to burst through his thin shield and overtake him.

The memory of that night was not far off from his mind now. Eric sat up in the bed his head pounding from pill and alcohol induced hangover. It was a reminder that he had lived through another day. He looked at the clock. 4:30 pm. Another day wasted. He threw his comforter off and forced his legs to hold his weight. He stumbled to the bathroom and fought with the lid of the pill bottle. With a thick swallow he took down the pills with a handful of water. He hoped the effects would take over fast. He leaned against the pedestal sink and his hands gripped the edge. His knuckles suddenly turned white as he stared at the ghost reflecting back at him. He had been under control for a short period of time in comparison to how much his life spiraled. It was only a matter of time for the true person to emerge, the one that he had no control over.

The pills and alcohol only smoothed the sharp and jagged edges. It helped him distance his mind from the horror that was his past. He stumbled out of his bathroom and kicked an abandoned bottle, the amber liquid splashed outward from the force. He bent to retrieve the final drops to give his slow occurring buzz a push. He had one mission in mind, as he had everyday, and grabbed his keys before snatching up the full flask of whiskey off the counter.

Eric drove with purpose and concentration. He ran through the conversation he desired to have but didn't feel the timing would ever be right. So he sat in the driver seat of his midnight blue Bentley, and wrung his hands roughly in his lap as he nervously peered out the window to the apartment building across from where he parked. Emily's apartment building. This was the first day he had actually stopped and not kept going. He wasn't sure what he would accomplish by being there. He didn't even know what Emily could do for him, but something pulled him to her. She was after all one of Sheila's best friends and the last link left to his sister. They had to talk. He saw that both of them needed to open up. His own guilt of not saving his parents and now his sister's death was like poison. He had to understand what happened to Sheila. He needed to hear it from Emily. He imagined that her own guilt for not being able to stop the men must have been eating at her. He thought maybe he could help. After all he understood what it felt like.

The glass door being pushed open caught his attention and he squinted curiously at the woman emerging. With gloved hands she tucked her scarf tightly around her neck and took a quick glance in his direction. Their eyes locked briefly. His heart stopped, her piercing green eyes were unmistakable. Strands of copper wisped out from under her knitted cap. He couldn't believe it. He had to have been looking at a ghost. He blinked to try and refocus but she began to move away. His initial surprise turned quickly to anger.

"It can't be. " He tried to reason but there was no doubt in his mind that it was her. He had been lied to, again. He couldn't understand the lengths people went to go against him. Why would Sheila do that to him, and why would Emily be so cruel as to initiate such a highly elaborate lie?

As he watched her walk down the steps he fired up the car and slowly pulled around to run parallel with her. He rolled the passenger window down. She avoided looking, but he knew she saw him.

"Sheila!"

She pulled her coat tighter around her and increased her pace purposely ignoring him. The need to know what she was doing pulsed through his veins. He looked down the street. The lavender sky was giving way to the darkness. The streetlights began to flicker on. No cars or people around. He threw the car in park and jumped out rounded the front of the vehicle and approached her. She stopped and stared at him. He reached for her arms, but she pulled away. Anger bubbled deep inside him. When he reached out again he successfully snagged the cuff of her coat's sleeve and adjusted quickly to secure her slender wrist in his grip.

"What are you doing?" He demanded.

"What?" She asked. Her eyes flashed with honest confusion.

"Damn it, why are you doing this?"

She pulled her arm back but he held tight. She tugged again and suddenly her initial shock gave way to fear.

"Let go!" The panic in her voice was clear. "What are you doing?"

He had no interest in hurting her and didn't understand the fear that now tainted her once sparkling eyes. He just needed to talk, find out why she had lied to him. Why she would hurt him so badly. He took a look to Emily's building and anger that the women were working against him overwhelmed his thoughts.

He began to drag her, but she dug her boots into the concrete dropping her weight towards the ground. Her resistance only fueled the rage that was surfacing faster with each second that past.

"HELP!" She yelled out, her sharp voice echoed down the empty street. He pulled at her again securing her closer to him. She threw a leg out cracking him in the shin. The pain radiated through his body snapping something inside him. He slapped her without a single thought. The heavy hand connecting with her cheek sent her to the ground. She looked up at him stunned. Urgency to get her out of there suddenly surged.

"Get up." He growled and with a pinching grip he pulled the woman to her feet.

Eric spun the woman towards his car and pulled open the door. With his free hand he gripped her arm forcing her into the passenger seat. She fell into the seat, her protest and strength gone. He was in control now, and he'd get answers.

He needed to know what the two women talked about, and what other dark secrets they were keeping from him. He couldn't understand why he was told she was dead. There were too many loose ends and his grasp on it all was slipping fast. Sheila would give in once he calmed down but he'd have to carefully confront Emily. Her hovering teammates would take his intentions wrong and may block him more. They probably were in on it as well. They'd know he'd figure it out eventually. He was a smart man, and messing with him always ended in disastrous results.

His eyes darted around the street one last time. Satisfied there was no one he let his weight shift to his foot and pressed down on the accelerator. In a burst they left the scene behind them.

The woman slouched in the passenger seat eyes wide as saucers. "Please!" She cried, tears streaming. "Please, I won't tell anyone, just let me go!"

Eric slammed his hand on the steering wheel, "Shut up!"

She shriveled more into the door, silent. Exactly how he needed her until he was ready for her to confess the real reason for her deceitful intentions.

* * *

Emily looked towards the kitchen's island with annoyance. Her phone was once again dancing around on the smooth granite surface. She was glad she had put the ringer on silent, but the constant vibration was beginning to irritate her just as much as her ringtone would if it had been on. When it finally ceased a knock at the door replaced the previous racket. More than anything she wanted to ignore it. She was mentally and physically exhausted.

She looked to the papers and files piled on the table in front of her. Rossi had given her a file that had been kicked back from the Organized Crime Unit. It was Sheila's personal investigation of her parent's murder, and they had no use for it.

She didn't want to believe that Sheila had been on a useless search. That maybe she would have found something substantial, but everything she had noted was all just theory. It had been twenty years and very little evidence to go on. A contaminated crime scene and sloppy police work most likely meant it would remain as it was, unsolved.

Emily didn't want to accept that there was nothing more to uncover. She just so desperately wanted to do something more for her friend. Her gut told her that Sheila's grief had made her believe something that may have not been true. Emily wanted to believe their lives had crossed paths again for a reason other than to watch her die.

Her phone started up again at the same time as the knocking on the door got louder.

"What the hell?" Emily cursed. With one hand on the arm of the couch and other on the cushion she forced herself to stand. The change of position and stretching still created twinges of pain in her abdomen. Once moving she was usually fine, it was the initial start up. Another annoying reminder that she wasn't completely healed.

With slow steps she approached the island. She spun the phone so the caller was visible on the screen. Garcia. She thought to answer, but the pounding on the door was more pressing. Finally reaching it she leaned towards the peephole. There was Derek performing the assault while Hotch stood a few feet behind him.

She unlatched the locks and swung the door open.

"Prentiss, why aren't you answering your phone?" Derek barked.

"Because I was in the living room and it was all the way in the kitchen." She tried to joke but their serious manner swept over her.

"What's going on?" She asked looking to Aaron.

"May we? " Hotch asked motioning to enter her apartment.

Emily slid to the side to allow the two men access. Derek flew past while Aaron hung back slightly eyeing the brunette. Emily became more aware something drastic had happened.

"Have you had any contact with Eric Winters recently?" Hotch asked as he finally crossed the thresh hold.

Emily shut the door and turned the bolt the whole time looking back and forth at both men.

"Not since that day in the hospital. Why?"

"Because this woman was found murdered in his home this morning." Aaron answered passing her a photograph.

Emily's gasped as she peered at the familiar face. She dropped her arm letting the print fall out of her sight. She found herself unable to speak, the words caught in her tightened throat.

"Elizabeth Cramer lived four doors down from you." Derek spoke for her, his eyes sweeping around her apartment.

Emily could only nod and shuffled her way past the two agents and crumpled onto the nearest sofa. She was confused at what was happening. Nothing made sense.

"So, where's Eric?" She choked out looking to Hotch who was circling around to join her on the chair across from her.

"We aren't sure. His car was not at the residence. His cleaning staff found the body this morning. COD was blunt force trauma to the head."

Emily fell silent trying somehow to understand what she was just told. Derek's voice speaking to Garcia pulled her away. Aaron watched him and moved his eyes to silently instruct him to take the call in the other room. Derek nodded and quickly ducked into the kitchen. Emily looked to Aaron who sat a few moments in silence; she knew he was considering what to say and how to say it.

Emily became more aware that he was heading towards something and she held herself strong to what he may reveal. Once Derek was out of earshot he leaned forward his forearms resting on his knees. When he spoke he kept his voice low and steady.

"With Elizabeth being from your building and the connection you have to Eric I had Garcia do a background on him. To help figure out where he may have run to, and what other factors may contributor to his recent behavior."

Emily swallowed hard, and felt her spiraling world suddenly come to an abrupt halt. She knew where he was going, what Penelope had discovered. It was a night she wanted to forget, but now brought up to be laid out for everyone to see. Had Morgan known, the team? Had Aaron sent Derek away so he could bring it up to her alone? Her skin was being peeled back more and her struggle to hold it together was constantly being stripped from her.

"It was a long time ago, Hotch." She said in hope to end all conversation about it before it could begin.

"That's fine, and I'm not interested in you giving details, and only Garcia and myself know about it. It's just an important factor to understanding him."

His words should have made her feel better but they didn't. She silently cringed at the image of Penelope's reaction to reading the report. She didn't speak so he could get to his point.

"Looking back now, as a profiler, what behavior could you pull from that night?"

Emily blew out a breath and closed her eyes to allow herself to return to that small college apartment. She was going to have to give up something, whether she wanted to or not. She quickly decided she would make it simple, important details only.

She ran through them as quickly as she could. "He was strung out, or at least at the time that was what I assumed. He was paranoid and extremely agitated. He believed people were after him and he wanted to see Sheila, but she was still in class. I should have known better than to let him in, but I figured since she was due home shortly, it wouldn't hurt. I felt content that he had calmed down enough to eat food I prepared."

She slowly opened her eyes and looked to Aaron's attentive ones across from her.

"I went to my room to answer a phone call. That was when he flipped, thinking I was part of some sort of conspiracy against him. If Sheila hadn't come home-" She stopped short, the rest to remain tucked away at the back of her mind.

Aaron nodded slightly to the information. "He has been arrested for assault two to other times since, but never officially charged."

Emily ran her hand through her hair and tucked it behind her ear. She looked past Aaron, unsure what to say. She didn't want to put the pieces together but they began to fall. The reality far worse than anything she could have brought herself to imagine.

"So what are you thinking?" She finally asked.

"He may have thought Elizabeth was Sheila."

"Why? That doesn't make sense."

"Witnessing their parents murder and Sheila's death may have been the stressor. Seeing Elizabeth, and her having similar features may have triggered a psychotic break."

"Okay." She whispered, still in disbelief.

"It also means he was here. We don't know how long he has been hanging around."

Morgan reentering the room interrupted their conversation. He looked at them curiously before relying his new information. "Garcia just got a call that Eric's car has been spotted in a residential neighborhood in Richmond, Virginia. They believe he has entered a residence there."

"He's going home." Emily sighed. "Back to the beginning, where his parents were murdered."

Hotch nodded in agreement and rose slowly. "We'll inform the local authorities of his parent's address, and the information you have given us."

Emily nodded. She didn't like the idea of him hanging around. She didn't want to bring up the thought he could have been stalking Elizabeth. She really had little doubt that they had already thought of all the reasons Eric did what he did and why. It was their job. He probably realized that Elizabeth wasn't Sheila too late, and needed to go somewhere familiar. She felt helpless again.

"Just keep me in the loop, please. If they manage to take him alive I would like to speak to him."

Aaron nodded and then gestured for Morgan to head out.

Derek paused keeping his eyes on Emily. "Do you want me to stay?"

Emily smiled but shook her head. "I'll be fine, I just need to sleep."

Derek hesitated and his unease was clear. Emily did her best to reassure him. Even though his company had been appreciated, she felt the need to be alone. The news about Eric was almost too much for her to process. She didn't feel any of it was ever going it end good, she hoped when it did it no one else got hurt or killed. But, she knew that was highly unlikely.

Though Aaron began to turn and make his leave Derek stood his ground. "Emily, I would just feel better if one of us stayed until we got word. You can go upstairs I won't even be noticeable down here."

Emily leaned against the island and sighed. She was too tired to really put up a fight. It wasn't that big of a deal for him to stay, and she shrugged her answer. Derek's demeanor changed immediately and he smiled in relief.

"Get some rest, Emily." Aaron added before stepping into the hallway outside her door.

"Goodnight." Emily responded giving the most convincing smile she could. She was feeling more physically and emotionally drained then she had an hour earlier. Trying to sleep was the top priority of the moment, but she highly doubted it.

After the door closed she turned and dragged herself past Derek without a word and headed towards the stairs, but stopped when she saw the files and her notes. She tried to remember their exact conversation at the hospital but could only remembered Eric's behavior. Had she misread him again? Thinking that his agitation was just nerves to see her? How had she missed that Eric was so unstable? Sheila's protective and attentiveness to him all those years now made more sense. It was more than a sister's concern for a brother. She saw early that the trauma from his parent's murder forever changed his psyche.

She maneuvered to the table and hastily shuffled them into the manila folder and she turned to the now curious Derek.

"What's up?" He asked.

"Hotch's probably already out of the building, but I just a thought they could use what notes I have to profile Eric more."

Derek stepped over to her retrieving the bundle of paper and smiled. "I'll see if I can catch up to him."

Emily smiled back appreciating his efforts.

"Lock the door behind me, I'll knock when I come back up." He instructed as he exited the apartment.

Emily acknowledged him and watched for a moment as he disappeared out the door. Slowly she made her way to turn the lock and wait for him to return. Her hand had just reached the knob when a solid force suddenly slammed into the door shoving it open; Emily trapped behind it. She bounced violently backwards into the wall. Losing her footing she fell hard onto the ground. She had no time to recoup before she was forced back up. Eric appeared inches from her face. The smell of alcohol wafted over her and his eyes gleamed with a strange fervor.

"Where's my sister?"

"What?" She asked, her mind trying to register what was happening.

"MY SISTER!" He repeated, now yelling but still inches from her face.

"She's dead, Eric." Emily answered trying to stay calm.

"Liar!" He responded in anger and denial. He clutched her shoulders and with sudden force threw her to the ground.

She remained under him unable to move, her already weak body unwilling to respond to the frantic urgency. Rage and madness transformed his face as he towered over her. She froze when he leveled the gun in her direction.

"Why would you do this to me?" His voice cracking in pain and anger.

Emily tried to look past the barrel to the man holding her life in his hand. Her heart hammered against her chest, it's erratic pace threatened to steal air from her lungs. She concentrated on inhaling and holding it in before expelling it out slow to gain control and slow her heart rate. She focused inward, just like she had been trained to function in high stress situations. She wouldn't physically be able to keep Eric at bay, but had to have a clear mind to try and talk him down. At that point it was all she had, and hoped it was enough.

* * *

_Will Morgan make it back in time? That's if Morgan made it to the stairs….._

_Thank you for reading! Only a few more chapters to go._


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